Aglio

When Mom worked nights Dad would cook
Pasta Aglio’olio
Dripping in Italian olive oil
The garlic slightly browned, crackling, still sizzling
The parm melted into each strand of spaghetti
Delicious earthy goodness

***

It took me years to pronounce the French word ailes
Ai-els instead of èls
I was stuck in phonetics
Which in hindsight seems fitting

***

You see, there’s garlic
And there’s aglio
Ai-Lio
     Hi Dad, I’d say,
     Cipolla, non aglio
     (Onions, not garlic)
     (How to pun in Italian)

***

But it was the aglio they served
Oven roasted with warm baguette
Still in the shell for me to gently squeeze out
To spread thickly like golden butter

***

It was magic
Like wings
A memory that took flight
I’ve never managed to relive that moment since