Poetry
Saturday dolma vespers
Gather to
witness cleansing of
blood tomatoes and
green peppers,
ground beef kneaded
wholesome head bowed
rice grains studding open
cavities salted stuffed
in a pot over flame
broth softening to
fill our bellies from the
belly of her daughter,
basil flakes of lost
highland flowers
Crushed.
“կեր, կեր”* she’d say
stroking our hair as the
vapor rested moist on our faces
in the sanctuary
she stoked for us,
Feeding.
*Pronounced “ger, ger” meaning “eat, eat” in Armenian
my mother called it sarma. no matter,
I make it now and still call it sarma. I stuff bell peppers, zucchini. eggplant, whole tomatoes and call it dolma.
shout out to the class of 70′ at Ferrahian High school in Encino Cali! That was some year!
Sarma, or dolma, all delicious.