Requires one large pot
Nana's big pot.
How many stomachs filled?

Brown the meat
The sausage, handmade by a neighbor.
A gift, she would object to its use.

Finely chop onions and peppers.
The man down the street in the hospital.
God, let him be okay.

Add water & tomato paste.
Mother said 3 cans of water to a can of paste.
I miss my mother.

Add seasonings & spices.
The blend, my serendipitous secret,
With so many other secrets.

Simmer & stir frequently.
Nana was punished; she burned the pot.
She was 12 years old.

Remove & let stand.
Flavors blend.

Linda Conlin, lives in southern New England, but still considers herself a New York woman with a passion for the Maine coast and lighthouses. This is her second published work of poetry.

Copyright 2003, Linda Conlin. This work is protected under the U.S. copyright laws. It may not be reproduced, reprinted, reused, or altered without the expressed written permission of the author.