Apples [For Baking]

Long after sun has lengthened
Its shadow and we have thrown
On overcoats like old man winter
Has with his snow, we felt
The juice trickle over our chins;
One last bite into canned Spring.

This is daydreaming by firelight.

Mother’s workings at oven side
A taste of bubbledygook and dough oozers.
December’s orchard waiting to be
Picked from: fifteen canning jars
selected for the pie-makers.