Grandma's Sweet Potato Pie
Gone but not forgotten
I can barely remember you
because you died along with her,
and it's only her daughter who makes you now.
Something's missing, but I can't quite put my finger on it;
you have the same creamy texture,
smooth like the rarest satin
suited only for the highest of royals.
You still have that unique shade of brown
and I can see the specks of spice;
it reminds me of her freckles and stars in the night sky.
Your crust was always crimped and flaky,
so different from her.
She could not be compressed, forced in a mold,
and she made sure she was always there
until she couldn't anymore.
It all blends into this perfect sweet bite
of nostalgia, comfort, and home except,
except something is still missing,
and I still can't see it.
Maybe the thing missing is her:
"It was made with love."
It's quite bittersweet to think of you.
I miss you, I do,
but sweet potato pie,
I miss her more.
About the Creator
Alexandria Stanwyck
My inner child screams joyfully as I fall back in love with writing.
I am on social media! (Discord, Facebook, and Instagram.)
instead of therapy: poetry and lyrics about struggling and healing is available on Amazon.
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Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts7 days ago in Longevity
Comments (7)
So glad you got Runner Up placing in Poppy’s March Prompts! 🤩
I loved this very much, felt it very near and dear to my own heart.
Beautiful… -smooth as the rarest satin- 😮 What a great description! Loved your poem. I could literally taste and smell it!
“Reminds me of her freckles… such a special poem. Sorry she isn’t there. My husband makes us sweet potato pie. 😋 Loved your poem.
This is a wonderful wonderful poem. I love how you addressed it to the pie yet in a symbolic way. It was so powerful. This would've been a great entry for the Ode to Ordinary challenge from awhile ago. That ending was extra impactful. The entire poem is so sad but sweet. Hope you're doing okay.
This was so sweetly nostalgic… ‘ Maybe the thing missing is her: "It was made with love." It's quite bittersweet to think of you. I miss you, I do, but sweet potato pie, I miss her more.“ The blessing of a loving Grandma.
This was so poignant. Those kinda memories are always bittersweet. Sending you lots of love and hugs ❤️