Memorial

My grandmother used to make pierogi every Christmas Eve in her kitchen in Manchester. She would sit at the round table, four hours straight, folding them one by one, telling stories about Poland in a language I could not understand. She died in 2018 at ninety-six. I still make her pierogi every year. The recipe is in my head, not on paper. This hex is for her. For her kitchen. For every word I should have learned and did not.