by Allan Lake
Fulfilling experience: Eating
pumpkin pie made from scratch.
Dear pumpkin soup slurping and scone-
scoffing Brits and Australians, blame
my North American roots, left-overs
from a previous life.
Made with love, eaten with lust, trans-
porting me back to Canadian prairie
every time. Xmases, long-gone grannies,
church suppers, highway cafes.
A pumpkin matures, is chosen, appears
unlikely as dessert but, with domestic
science, transfigures from orange veg-
corpse into (let it cool a bit)
Sweet/spicy, devotedly devoured
over too few days, first warm with
ice cream, then later as cool snack.
I hope gluttony is not mere wolfish
satisfaction but I’m losing no sleep –
or weight for that matter.
Homely delights, pies that bind.
© 2022 Allan Lake All rights reserved.
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