Dishes

I hated to watch my grandma cook.
Her belief was that a splash of luke
warm water was enough to remove
the stale flour from the spoon, the
spoon she used to mix the batter
while making pierogi, just last week.
This spoon later stirred my cup of
tea, which rested in a coffee stained
cup.

I remember this as I pour hot water
over my raspberry tea bag. The cup
I just recently pulled from a sink full
of dishes. There was no dish soap in
the bottle so I let the water run for
a brief moment, and used that same
luke warm flush to drain out the old
stagnant, run off, water from inside.

One day my grandkids will ask me
for a cup of tea, while visiting, and
I will repeat this process. For the
full effect, I won't wipe the bread
crumbs from the corner of my mouth
until I'm finished with my sandwich.
Only then, and as though it was left
there for desert, will I wipe my mouth
a finger, only to stick the crumbs
back into my mouth.