Erin Jamieson holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Miami University of Ohio. Her writing has been published in After the Pause, Into the Void, Flash Frontier, and Foliate Oak Literary, among others, and her fiction has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. She teaches English Composition at the University of Cincinnati-Blue Ash College and also works as a freelance writer.

A Prose Poem

By Erin Jamieson

when I was a child, my father made snow ice cream. in the chill of a Saturday morning, he collected freshly fallen snow from the shrubs in the front of our house, scooping enough to fill an entire mixing bowl. that’s when the magic began: sparkling, beautiful snow, a dash of salt, two dashes of vanilla extract. he always let us add sugar and milk ourselves, thinking we could make it to taste. but my brother and I were children, who both did not know what we wanted and knew what we wanted more than we do now. we always added too much sugar, but maybe that was the point. but our bowls never tasted as good as our father’s, and to this day I still cannot replicate his perfect balance.