Amy Barlow Liberatore… stories of lost years, wild times, mental variety, faith, and lots of jazz

Tag Archives: silk

Silken Softness

My mom, Charlotte,
grew up in Iowa.
Council Bluffs, to be exact.

Recession, then Depression
brought the town to its knees,
at least until corn season.

Mom said Grandma Blanche
could make anything
from corn in a skillet:

Corn cakes, corn pone,
corn bread, but the best was
corn alone.

In the field, the poor were
allowed to glean from
Old Man Jones’ field.

Yanking from stalks,
home to shuck the ears.
Corn silk was, for Charlotte,

a miracle, a treasure. She said,
“I hope someday my wedding dress
will be as soft as this corn silk.”

Blanche marveled at
how her girl could always
make magic from simple things.

It’s a Laughlin tradition,
passed from Blanche to Charlotte,
from Charlotte to lucky me.

© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Poets United, my favorite site, asked for food-inspired, home-grown tales. Can’t get more “down home” than this!