Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Your Poet Is: Thomas T. Kemp with "Triggers" during National Poetry Month...

Apple pie


What makes you remember?
Loving her pie was so stress-free,
Even knowing I should not eat it,
But apple pie is wonderful.
And she made her own crust.
I did not discern what type the apples were…
Red, green, yellow.
Then I was over the moon in love and reminded.
When I was six years old my Great Aunt Mary,
baked two apple pies every week for Great Uncle Bill.
Uncle Bill was a carpenter who worked beside my Dad.
Father would take me to work on summer morning,
My job?
Pick up the scrap wood and put it in brown burlap sacks
for burning in the old cast iron wood stove.
At lunch time Dad would open his black lunch box,
Out came the sandwiches and veggies.
But, I could hardly contain myself for the opening,
of Uncle Bill’s large brown paper sack.
He always had a grocery store in it.
Most important was three pieces of apple pie.
Before I die I want to make pies,
The truth is dark red cherry is my favorite.

Thomas Kemp/poet

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