Apple Pie Lesson

Ma could bake,

pies, bread, English muffins

the smell of her baking, incense

to my nose as I walked in

on a cold fall day

as the first frosts appeared.

The kitchen was warm

as she stood there

pulling out another batch

of freshly baked cookies.

Shortly after my marriage

I needed to learn

how to make an apple pie

with crust made from scratch

so I went to her, flour in hand

show me how, don’t do, show

I asked and we went step by step.

Measuring flour, cutting in shortening

rolling out the dough, placing in pie pan

slicing apples, just right, not too thin

cinnamon, sugar, a little flour

mixing them in the apples

then placing the mix into the shell

covering it all with rolled out dough

she showed how to crimp the edges

just using a basic fork, a quick wash

then into the oven it went.

Now as I stand in my own kitchen

on a late fall afternoon

with the air crisp and cool

and leaves falling on the ground

I go through the motions 

she taught me long ago

as I cut in the shortening

roll out the dough, prepare the apples

the scent of it all baking

the incense of my youth returned.


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