Apple-Knocker Pie
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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
Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2022
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