Apple-Knocker Pie

Orchard tree, spotted outside our bedroom window - round and green ornaments, thrown to the ground, delicious, in my apple-knocker* pie. lifted off Autumnal floor, sliced with lemon, cinnamon, and a beginner’s grin. never gave thought to the old couple - the tree’s provision, the hammer and nail pounding the contoured foam in a wood frame, for changing baby, onto the dresser that would become ours. that pie and the neighbor’s salmon (my first taste) - we were like pioneers in Fortuna. Another neighbor on this block of rentals, a young couple who watched our daughter for a millisecond, offered up brownies - i’d not take a bite of the apple, metaphorically speaking, as Eden did enough damage - this sailor would resist the weeds, drawn instead to the aromatic waft coming from the oven and the nestle of a powdered infant. like the flawed granny apples, our family life begins by savoring what life brings - it’s imperfections in others, in us…our own sins find us. true, we found the sky above us, also - our knees on holy ground, through the formidable years. 7/2/2022 A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE CHOICE *rustic