Symposium poem -- Locally grown
Apple jelly: my grandmother
and my great aunt shared a duplex
where an apple tree, two varieties,
twined into one trunk, red gladiolas
along the fence, a double
glider rocker where I took turns
holding hands with the old sisters.
Apple jelly on yeast rolls, a blessing,
like holding hands with time.
Mead uncorked and cold:
bees drunk on sunshine.