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terry-collettPoems
Your mother rolled out pastry with the rolling pin her hands pushing the implement across the board and you watched her floured skin work their skill backward and forward under the palms of her hands the thinning pastry spreading out to an inch of width until her hands stopped and she flipped it over and spread more flour upon the board with a flick and smoothing touch of her hand once that task was done she lifted it to the dish and eased it around inside and around the edges with her fingers and thumbs working their way in a circular motion around the dish then cut with a knife the over hanging unneeded pastry and put it aside like an umbilical cord once the baby’s born as her hands placed in the stewed apple filling you said can I have the left over bits? pointing to the wasted pastry left aside sure you can she said moving on with her skill as you picked up the pastry and walked away noticing the sadness in her watery eyes and strained voice and words following you across the room as you ate the pastry between your fingers like a bird of prey.
0
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 3:46 PM UTC
PIE MAKING WITH MOTHER.
Your mother rolled out pastry with the rolling pin her hands pushing the implement across the board and you watched her floured skin work their skill backward and forward under the palms of her hands the thinning pastry spreading out to an inch of width until her hands stopped and she flipped it over and spread more flour upon the board with a flick and smoothing touch of her hand once that task was done she lifted it to the dish and eased it around inside and around the edges with her fingers and thumbs working their way in a circular motion around the dish then cut with a knife the over hanging unneeded pastry and put it aside like an umbilical cord once the baby’s born as her hands placed in the stewed apple filling you said can I have the left over bits? pointing to the wasted pastry left aside sure you can she said moving on with her skill as you picked up the pastry and walked away noticing the sadness in her watery eyes and strained voice and words following you across the room as you ate the pastry between your fingers like a bird of prey.
terry-collett
Written by
terry-collett
English
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 3:46 PM UTC
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