Beetlebung and Kettlehole--April Poems

Making Jam

finally, as if famine loomed
in my kitchen, I taught myself
how to make jam

it began when the excess apples
in the bowl, fully ripe and bright,
begged me to translate their beauty
thus, depending on memory, I
cut them up as I had always done
with all crisp things in my life,
then added sugar to the pot and waited
for tears on the fruit, and when enough,
I set it to boil, mixing with lemon juice
cinnamon and spice.

when this medley simmered down
and cooled, the fruit in faceted crystals
shimmered and melted on my taste buds
for the inner me needing sweetness

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prompt: newly discovered/acquired talent/skill