McIntoshes by Pearl Pirie

Poet name: Pearl Pirie Poem name: McIntoshes Poem: orchards don’t know that someone claims them.  they know when they are bitten and signal other trees to defence.  they probably sense when  their flowers are pollinated.  the sapling I watched grow from my bedroom window  is taller than mom’s old house. I will savour the applesauce  frozen since last season. it was made from mom’s tree   and so she feeds me after her death.   she doesn’t know how  the applesauce I made turned out.   simplest thing, she said there’s no way to ruin applesauce  unless you write poems until the fruit burns the air.  I didn’t, this time. the tree  of course does not know me  even less so the person  who now owns the land   of its roots and mine.  take another nibble.  we could add more sugar to be like her sauce, but won’t. End of poem.  Credits and bio:  Copyright © Pearl Pirie  Pearl Pirie the author of footlights (Radiant Press, 2020), the pet radish, shrunken (Book*hug, 2015), Thirsts (Snare, 2011), been shed bore (Chaudiere Books, 2010), and dozens of chapbooks. You can follow her on twitter at @pesbo, or at Instagram and Patreon as pearlpiriepoet. News and resources can be found at her author site