On the table, get it. The recipe.
Need apples. Youíll not need butter.
Butter makes you fat.
He said that to her as her hand
held the silver knife
above the antique holder
that held the salty creamy bar.
His knife was always ready for other foods.
Iíll make apple butter. Like his mother.
It is spicy. It is dappled and holds its own on the bread.
He can have no complaint.
On the stove, the elements combined
The red apples skinless melted.
Sugar. Donít put that in your tea.
Sugar makes you fat.
He said that to her
as she filled the china cup,
with chips from past agreements.
Sugar is needed in the apple butter.
Look, your mother says so.
Argue its inclusion.
Cinnamon and ginger.
Cloves. Where are those?
Spices in life are never to be
Found at the front of the cabinet.
They are always in back of the tomato soup
On the highest shelf, near the leftover packages of
Taco mix and stale cookies.
It wonít be the same without cloves.
Who will know if they are left out?
What do they taste like anyway?
Do you know what cloves taste like?
Cloves make you fat.
That is ridiculous she told him and she
Left the butter burning
on the white topped stove and left.