Apple Butter 9-7-14

So many things just disappeared

forever with my mother.

Mom's apple butter's almost gone

and there won't be another.

But I can taste it.  Sure, I can!
It's not like any other.
Except for grandma, no one made it
quite as good as mother.

But now a silence fills her room.

Oh, how can I rejoice -

with not a hymn to listen to

nor her familiar voice?

All gone, her clothes and furniture.

No fragrance greets my nose.

No flower pots or nature's bloom.

At last, her door I close.

I close it on so many things

I'll never again see.

And apple butter, now all gone,

is just a memory...
So I sit back and close my eyes
here in my fav'rite chair -
where I can see her making more,
more apple butter there...

©2014 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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