Love and Cinnamon

I was making a cobbler..

apple, of course.

There are always apples;

an everyday fruit, made wonderful

by combination

with other everyday stuff:

flour, butter, love, and cinnamon—

I was peeling apples...

stroking peel into the sink:

red coins of apple skin,

piled in the white enamel sink.

A snapshot, a moment, a vignette—

enough to make me pause, to take note of 

the quotidian art in an apple peel, blending

the common with the commonplace.

Love and cinnamon, love and anything,

creating something wonderful.