Poem Renaissance – Robbi Nester

Gyroscope Review is celebrating National Poetry Month with a Poem Renaissance, a review of previously published poems looking for new life and new views. Every day through May 20^th, a new poem to fall in love with all over again.

Second Daughter: Asma Khan
by Robbi Nester
After an episode of the Netflix series The Chef's Table

My mother cried. I was her second
daughter, little better than a death.
In India, no parties or celebrations
welcome a girl child. Only slammed
doors, impatient voices. But I come
from a warrior clan. Our family
compound looks down on broken
shanties. Father said I must be mindful
of this accident of birth, must make a mark.
I shout my name from every open
window, demanding to be heard.
To make my mother proud, I earned
a law degree at Oxford, married well,
but still felt empty, alone in a far off
country—until by chance, paratha
cooking in a stranger’s kitchen
summoned me to India to learn to cook.
My mother was angry; she said a lawyer
belongs in court. In her kitchen, I watched
and listened, and she could not deny me,
taught me to feed the spirit with a handful
of flour and oil, to find the rhythm of a meal
fashioned out of onion and potatoes, garlic
and cardamom, ingredients that, with patience
and a practiced hand, release their flavors,
become a symphony. I hear the murmur
of the sauce as it thickens, the rattle
of the stockpot, savor the scent of spices
roasting in the skillet with a bit of oil.
It taught me faith, sealing the pot of rice
with a braid of dough, trusting each grain
would soften and swell like a pearl, yielding
to the steam. At home, in England, I spoke
with everyone who looked familiar, taught
them my mother’s recipes. Soon enough,
I welcomed guests as though they were
God himself. Everyone knows my name.
I owe this to my mother, to the women
standing silent at the stove while I work
the front of the house, sharing the story
of this food, this accident of birth.
The guests begin as strangers, leave
as friends. Back in the village, I unseal
the locked gates, embracing every
second daughter, drying her mother’s tears—
every birth worthy of a festival, a feast,
fireworks lighting up the sky.

Originally published in Glass Lyre Press's anthology, Aeolean Harp, Vol. VI.

Robbi Nester is a retired college educator and author of 5 books of poetry. She has also edited three anthologies, and curates two poetry monthly poetry reading series on Zoom. Learn more at her website: http://www.robbinester.net

Don’t forget to read the Spring 2025 Issue, available now, online and in print

Previous Renaissance Poets

April Poets

May Poets