I always tell my creative writing students:  “Details! Details! Details!”  Here poet Corey Cook drives home my point with the details of a Sunday Morning at Grammy and Grandpa’s.  

Poet Corey Cook.

Sunday Morning at Grammy and Grandpa’s

meant turning that spindly t.v. dial and selecting

Channel 3, setting up wooden trays in front

of floral couches and chairs, Grammy humming

above a sizzling pan, spatula clacking. Meant

rubbing bare feet on the braided rug, Charles

Kuralt, Grandpa’s presence veiled by a robe

and the Valley News or the latest issue of Popular

Mechanics. Meant a plate heaped with pancakes

and strawberries, Andy Rooney, Grammy’s salt

and pepper hair in pink rollers. Meant plinths

of sunlight pushing through the streak-free windows,

fishing Reese’s Peanut Butter Chips out of yellow

Tupperware, wishing that trademark sun wouldn’t set.

– Featured in Corey Cook’s chapbook “What to Do with a Dying Parakeet” and first published in Oak Bend Review.

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