Sweet Tooth Season



In the sweet tooth season my family’s iron skillet
transformed into a raisin black moon
dusted with sugared apple stars.

A song of grandmothers’ sang through my mother’s spoon
in cinnamon dust notes and yellow butter sun
until the melody of ancestors would reach the final note, “enough.”

Apple scented thoughts of ladder climbs
to reach heavy fruited limbs, wicker baskets, harvest,
promised growling tummies honest labor brought rewards.

On the crescendo of giggle questions mother
extinguished the sun beneath our iron skillet moon,
and dropped apple blessings into bowls even heaven wished to taste.

 ©Susie Clevenger 2016






Comments

Jim said…
I remember the apple ladder climbs, our baskets were bushel sized, woven thin wood pieces. Most time I was below with another basket picking up the dropped fruit. I was there with Mother cooking and singing. When she had stopped the girls begin to giggle, worse than the singing because girls won't or can't stop.
..
Gillena Cox said…
"apple blessings into bowls even heaven wished to taste."

Oh Wow a sweet little poem

much love...
Unknown said…
This is very evocative of tradition and delight. Well done!
Kim M. Russell said…
Oh, I love this, Susie! It's so evocative, with the 'raisin black moon' and 'sugared apple stars' and grandmother's song singing through the spoon! The colour in the second stanza comes through warm and full of love, while the scent of apples adds to the image of apple picking in the third stanza. With the final stanza, you've tickle every sense.
Kerry O'Connor said…
This is just the most wonderful, apple-scented poem I have ever read!
Anonymous said…
The sweetest holidays dessert - a family's joy
A feast for all the senses!
Apple blessings to you Susie! Wonderful write!
Magaly Guerrero said…
I felt an intense urge to lick my screen... Something kept on telling me that if I did, it would taste of apples and cinnamon. Yum!
brudberg said…
This has that perfect picture of tradition... it's like a Christmas card.