waiting (20210429)

we will wait
for the apple blossoms
to swell, pregnant and fat
and will not tire of
apple picking time
when that time has come
at last

there will be a time for pie
and even piemaggedon
will not slake my thirst
and when the last ones fall
the bruised
and insect ruined
the deer will feast
and thank us
with little piles
of presents

the mind’s pie (20170705)

summer strolls through
my backyard
leaving peaches fall
baking in the sun
attended by fig beetle and
overwhelming sweet fermenting scent
fills the air
a thousand pies all at once

i long
for the taste of melting
ice cream on my tongue
the coarse grains
of the vanilla bean

a car
on the freeway honks
and i pretend it’s
one of lake geese