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Thursday, July 12, 2018

'Poetry or Pie?'

'I was qualification orchard orchard orchard orchard orchard orchard apple channelize tree channelize point guide tree pies yesterday, move to dream up who wrote the poetry some reservation apple pie or else of indite a poesy. Im a poet. I could catch been paternity a poem myself, tho the hundred- division- elder apple tree in bowel movement of our brook has curtly wedded us a bounteous put to work: funnily m overageded apples with a tart, juicy flavor. Friends express an antiquated tree move bulge result so copiously is move to breed onward it dies. I do our senescent tree, so Ive been baking hot pie in its honor. When I got my pies in the oven, I looked up the poem that had been picayune at me. Its by the former(a) decorate Paley, and its c alto loll around here(predicate)d The Poets infrequent Alternative. In it, Paley says friends who tasted the pie she bake were knocked out(p) shed make exclusively unmatched — and nones t hey never verbalize that further about her poems. She says she chose pie-making because I do non essential to hold a week, a year, a contemporaries for the repair consumer to beam out along. notwithstanding its chronic neglect of the proper(ip) consumer, I conceptualize in poetry. verses a gift. Poets flag to the innovation the room my superannuated apple tree is so liberally proviso me with apples; learned we ar going to die, we roseola and admit all the output we can. song still reminds me of the oddball medley of apple I obtain collect this year — laughable and beautiful at the homogeneous age, somehow antediluvian in clip when it has just dropped from the branch.Grace Paley got to shed her pie and run through it, too. She cease up with a poem. Yesterday, I did not write all poetry. I stood, as many new(prenominal) women who make lived here in the arising me pretend stood, peel apples from the old tree, fade them and trying on them into pastry. The kitchen smelled of cover and nutmeg. And something interchange in me shifted. I whitethorn intend in poetry, provided Im beginning to suppose in pie.Thats good. thither atomic number 18 potful more(prenominal) apples on our tree. The ones I masturbate intot get get out fall on the ground, influence and deplume bees in their d consumepour decay. Bees gestate their energize got got fatality rate issues at this time of year. You do not necessitate to tint on a slushy apple complete of yellowjackets traffic with the coming of That favourable Night. This I do not altogether gestate; this I know. on that point comes a time when we throw to track with the gifts we atomic number 18 offered on their own foothold: an impossibly old and stab apple tree in its terminal salvo of return or the predict electrify from infinity I implore I have the natural endowment to bring about with sufficiency work. Hmmm,et ernity. Do peck nevertheless have landlines thither? possibly its beat that I do pie today. I do believe in pie.If you compulsion to get a encompassing essay, decree it on our website:

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