by Catalina Benavides
Though I Come from a Long Line of Worriers, I Get an Idea
If it rains, we will cook—
our Macedonian father’s bean soup, zelnik, baklava.
Chopping. Chopping. Onions. Leeks. Walnuts.
Browning ham hocks. Slathering filo with flowing butter.
The family reunion won’t be washed away.
We’ll scorch piperki—whole, heart-shaped peppers—
directly on the electric stovetop the way he did.
Slice them, add vinegar, salt, garlic.
And Mother’s Australian meat pie: the crust! the gravy!
tender bits of sirloin! We will make it, side-by-side,
singing Waltzing Matilda and The Pub with No Beer.
Like our kid-selves in ’64, we’ll squirm, waiting for
no-bake chocolate cookies, the recipe in Eldest Sister’s
12-year-old hand, to cool and set like fudge.
Eighteen Pauls, Paul-in-laws, daughters, sons, nieces,
nephews, grands—from 300 to 5,000 miles away—
scrunched around my table for eight.
We’ll cross ourselves, Eastern Orthodox style,
and toast with a clinking communion of joy-blessed wine.
To us and to those who taught us to savor
Nazdravje! Mnogaja leta! Vechnaya!
Karen Paul Holmes won the 2023 Lascaux Poetry Prize and received a Special Mention in The 2024 Pushcart Prize Anthology. Her books are: No Such Thing as Distance (Terrapin, 2018)and Untying the Knot (Aldrich, 2014). Poetry credits include The Slowdown, Verse Daily, Diode, Glass, and Plume. Daughter of immigrants, she was the first gen to attend college and has an MA. www.karenpaulholmes.com, www.facebook.com/karenholmespoetry, www.instagram.com/sharing_poems
Catalina Benavides is a first generation Costa Rican American photographer working across portrait, architectural, and documentary styles. Their work focuses on capturing genuine moments and the unique details that bring stories to life. Instagram: capturedbycatalina_.