Apple Pie
What is it about fall
that turns me inside out?
Maybe it’s the chill in the air
or the subtle, sweet scent
of autumn leaves that
makes the longing so unbearable -
turns desire palpable.
There are images I can’t shake -
so vivid it’s as if I pulled them
straight from old photo albums
in a cedar chest years from now.
I close my eyes and see us
curled up in a quilt on our front porch swing –
watching leaves twirl through the air,
dancing to the raspy rustling
of cornstalks drying in the fields.
The zipper on my flannel vest
forms a refrain between two stanzas of
heavy leather hiking boots
falling to the floor with a thud.
Coming through the screen door,
the rose-colored sting in your cheeks
is kissed by the scent cinnamon, ginger
and the apple pie cooling on the counter.
I can feel the afternoon sun
as it slants through our
picture window and warms
the carpet where I’ll stretch out
to watch football.
As the last gold rays sink behind
the shadowy mountain tops,
we'll fall asleep,
peaceful
and content.
Posted by Amanda at September 19, 2004 01:30 AM
