This week’s prompt is a fun one. All the different lines people shared in the comments on this week’s (completely and totally optional) idea post over at Poetry Thursday inspired me quite a bit. In a way, I wish they would have each posted a blog post about why they chose that line of their own poetry.
I borrowed a line from Megan (you can read her original poem here). I decided to wait to read her poem until I was ready to share mine. And I was delighted in the serendipity of both of us finding inspiration in fruit. Megan, thank you for sharing this line...I appreciate the places it took me with this poem.
I am still trying to write shorter poems with few adjectives/adverbs…though this one was a bit longer than the other ones I have been playing with lately. It is a draft, but I will share it all the same.
leaning against the counter,
cup of tea in hand,
looking at the apples
resting in a clean white bowl:
when I am down the hall or
at the store or
when my back is turned
as I stand at the stove,
do my grandmother,
and her mother’s mother
talk to one another,
share secrets, and
peek in on me
as though their portraits exist
in Rowling’s world?
after I poured the slices
of fuji, jonagold, and granny smith
and watched them simmer,
did my grandmother pause their conversation and say,
“she is adding the spices now”
and then appear over my shoulder
as I tossed in the sugar,
sprinkled in nutmeg, and then
tapped the jar of cinnamon against the side of the pan,
so that I could hear her whisper,
“don’t you think that’s a bit too much?”