Apples baked with cinnamon,
Postre panne thick on fingers.
butter, brown sugar, more cinnamon
You always let me lick my fingers
made sure I washed up after,
on my blue stool in your kitchen
You seemed ageless in your apron.
had embroidered mine with roses.
I was three, four, five and couldn't
imagine my world without you and
apples baked with cinnamon.