Cutting Apples
We’re sitting across the table
and once again paring at edges,
heads bent slightly to avoid direct gaze
or misslice.
Meticulously, we take up the
worm-woven fruit,
excise the rotten part
on our slow way to the core.
We’re getting better at this.
In earlier cuttings, we grappled with
our knives awkwardly,
not knowing how to hold the handle
so the sharp edge turns gently inward,
or how to maneuver the point
so the peel curls just right,
brushing over the forefinger
then falling in one continuous swoop
into the waiting pan of scraps.
We missed some spots then,
only to have them turn brown later,
in the cooking.
Yes, we’ve gotten much better, I think—
carving away the specked rind—
much more dexterous at moving our blades
back and forth,
much better at sparing the tender morsels
underneath.
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Anna Manahan Bowman* is both poet and artist.
She lives in Hanover, PA, where she teaches adult education. She has been an editor for Digges’
Choice, and is an avid promoter of handmade books. Her work has been found in Living
Streams, Apprise, and Harrisburg Review. Anna took Second Place in our
4th annual poetry contest 2000.
* Previous Contributor |