Raspberry red

Photo by Patrycja Jadach on Unsplash

All it takes is a look, taste or smell of raspberry jam
to remind me of Mom.
A tiny madeleine of memory
that transports me to a long-gone world
ancient kitchens
and buttered toast with jam.
Today, though, would turn Mom's pale Scotch-Irish skin
red with anger.
Her memory took her often to Joseph Welch and the televised words
that stymied Joe McCarthy,
the far from kindred Irishman (a drunk to boot)
whose family also found refuge here.
Words that rocked a nation, helped wreck a demagogue
and echo through the generations since,
for those who remember.
A remnant of another time
still resonate with significance,
like the aroma of long-ago jam.