POETRY requires a mature audience ENTER only if you are 18+
This Is Just To Say
(with a wave to William Carlos Williams)
Thank you for the peach pie
red gold, gooey, thick and crusty:
peaches carried heaped in a basket
up the hill from the tree we planted
seven years ago, watched over,
pruned, debugged, (harvested
one rock of a peach that first year)
and now its branches bent to the ground
on the uphill side, their burden of fuzzy softening fruit almost more joy than they
You rolled the dough while I peeled fruit
into a pail my hands
deep in the juice and pulp my mouth smeared where I sucked my fingers, my hair
sticky on my forehead, tiny fruit flies buzzing in the kitchen.
I helped you lift the flat crust with spatulas and we laid it safely in the pan. You
spiced the golden bowl with cinnamon and other secrets, crisscrossed the top
with lattice crust, and this morning, you gone off to school, I cut a piece and
served it on a small blue plate with milk in a blue cup.
I ate it slowly, noticing every bite,
watching the grasses
move as the breeze swept across the distant hills.
I've left the rest for you, sweet baker girl.
I'll be gone a few days,
but I'll be thinking of you
eating peach pie.
From GAIL ENTREKIN's book, Change (will do you no good) (Poetic Matrix Press, 2005).
POETRYREPAIRS 13.12: 140