wanting

Eve’s love of knowledge

I allow

the blossoming apple tree

to teach me

 

each skin

in my small kitchen

that year in Kansas

hiding from a husband

and his death threats

I peel apples, each skin

curling me back

into my history.

the apples simmer

with cinnamon and sugar

connecting me

to the woman i know best

and their strength.

as the jars heat and

the rings and tops wait

I know tomorrow

is possible