One Day, You Need Pie

One day, you need pie.
You can’t explain it,
Your new sweet tooth.

But in your heart of hearts

It has to do with
Your 40th birthday,
Silver sprouting in the nest.

Your best friend brings you
Her baby to hold.
You put your nose to her neck,

Yes, familiar as your dreams

It doesn’t do to imagine him
Holding your hand
In the birthing room

At St. Vincent’s,
Or his olive cheek
Against what would be

Porcelain, blue eyes cracked open.

For now, you need pie.
Maybe you’ll make it yourself!
Joy of Cooking, scoop all those pits.

But all of the cherries have collapsed
To dried blood on the stems.
And your hands, red as a killer’s.

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