The Taste of Memory ©Dawn Minott

On By Dawn MinottIn Poetry

Update: Thanks to Dagmara and the editorial team at Spillwords for publishing this piece. Please drop by and show some love with a 👍🏾 ❤️ or comment. Thanks 🙏🏽

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The Taste of Memory

This piece of mint upon my tongue,
Cool and sharp, a memory clung.
Refreshing tea, from pot, flow like song
A feeling I had forgotten for far too long

Steam curls upward, time bends in its sway,
Suddenly I’m taken back to Montego Bay.
Rain ra-ta-tat on grandma’s kitchen zinc roof
Her voice is a calm to thunder—a lullaby, my living truth.

“Endure the storm, my child, you’ll find your way—
After the darkest nights, there’ll come brighter days.”
While mint’s fragrance floats effortlessly,
A healing balm for all that ails me.

Now, in this city—a jungle of concrete
Where busyness masks life, blanketed in conceit
The mint revives me—channeling memories of choice,
Like grandma’s kitchen and her soothing voice.

And when the world around me feels heavy, unkind,
That taste of mint reminds me what I must find:
Strength that lingers, roots that last,
A living hope connecting future and past.

Afterword: This piece written for Spillwords prompt: to create a piece where a character experiences a vivid, forgotten memory triggered by a specific flavor (e.g., burnt sugar, sour lemons, or something unusual). Weave the memory into their present-day conflict.

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In creative solidarity, Dee

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