I always tell my creative writing students: “Details! Details! Details!” Here poet Corey Cook drives home my point with the details of a Sunday Morning at Grammy and Grandpa’s.
Sunday Morning at Grammy and Grandpa’s
meant turning that spindly t.v. dial and selecting
Channel 3, setting up wooden trays in front
of floral couches and chairs, Grammy humming
above a sizzling pan, spatula clacking. Meant
rubbing bare feet on the braided rug, Charles
Kuralt, Grandpa’s presence veiled by a robe
and the Valley News or the latest issue of Popular
Mechanics. Meant a plate heaped with pancakes
and strawberries, Andy Rooney, Grammy’s salt
and pepper hair in pink rollers. Meant plinths
of sunlight pushing through the streak-free windows,
fishing Reese’s Peanut Butter Chips out of yellow
Tupperware, wishing that trademark sun wouldn’t set.
– Featured in Corey Cook’s chapbook “What to Do with a Dying Parakeet” and first published in Oak Bend Review.
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