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pies, cakes and ale
we went so far as to say
this year
this Beltane
we would tame the shrew again
we shoot into the dark
hoping poke holes became a sky
that lies with its pretty diamond insides
falling, ever falling past this deigned disguise
death is a light
what inside you never leaves
the kindly crone
with an apple
another newborn
another determinate reason
season after season
we plant apple seeds only to see
different crusts, varieties arise
when autumn comes
we spy the best stands
demand nothing of our eyes
we let our noses
know we are
willing to surrender
for how memory
returns, wafting
odiferously
from maypole
twining hopes,
what joys do
cakes and ale
pies too, all
on a window sill
the return light
filled
EJR ©
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