Apple Crumble

She was about six.
That age of endless questions.
Here it came the biggie.
Mommy where did I come from?

Do I make this a biology lesson
Full of penises and ******'s.
Or does she deserve the hard truth.?
I rationalize the truth is always better.
So after a deep breath
I gave it to her.

You come from the snows of the
Canadian Rockies.
Cold endless winter days and nights
when I ached for your father.
Love on the bed and kitchen table.
Underwear strewn about the house.
Burning in fires that needed quenching.
Even as I made apple crumble in the kitchen.

Her eyes looked at me quizzically.
Demanding a better answer from me.
She said
Mom do babies come from apple crumble.
I said yes honey
from apple crumble.