Concerning Apple Pie
Concerning Apple Pie
Poem by Helen Losse
Art by Jimmy Pitts
The rain has made mud
of the low-lying meadow.
Yellow pollen floats thereon.
Bits of green grass stand tall
beneath autumn leaves.
A hungry poet is trapped—
wearing orange at-home socks—
in a room of her own home.
The joy of a muddy meadow
is bird-dance in noonday sun.
The apple pie I smell beckons
from a distant cabin, and I wait
for the promise of taste.
The birds and I welcome
a poem striving to make itself
worthy of fresh-baked pie.
-refers from the word room in Scott Owens’ 13 Ways of Angels
What an amazing combo!
The heat from the painting coupled with the poem about apple pie–I can smell the cinnamon!
Patricia
http://pmpoetwriter.blogspot.com/
Patricia- thanks for stopping by! We love comments but wanted to let you know that when you put your web address in the comment it often shoots the comment to spam but I’m glad I caught you as not spam. When you enter your url it will make it so that if you name is clicked on under your avatar that it goes to your website so no worries on your url getting a shout out!
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