“Unearthing Hidden Truths: Roy Pullam’s Poignant Reflection on the Essence of Harvest”
In the heart of every home where the scent of fresh apples wafts through the air, there exists a symphony of labor and love—a delicate dance of hands working tirelessly over a red-hot coal stove. What stories could those apples tell if only they could speak? This vivid poem evokes the rhythm of canning season, capturing the essence of an era when the kitchen was the hub of the family—filled with sweat, smiles, and the promise of warmth during the chilly months ahead. As we peel back the layers of this poignant piece, we find not just descriptions of labor, but a celebration of memories, flavors, and the nostalgia that envelops us like a well-worn apron. Get ready to savor the rich imagery and the heartwarming sentiment that underlines the poetry of everyday life… a true feast for the senses! LEARN MORE.
I saw her work
The coal stove red
Sweat pouring from her face
She wiped her forehead
On her apron
Turning again
To the boiling apples
Apples fresh from the trees
In the field
Up from our house
How their appearance
Has changed
From the morning
A No. 2 washtub
Filled with water
The fruit floating
I reached in
Grabbing a red one
Spinning a knife
Directly under the peel
Ribbons of covering
Extending between my knees
Finally falling
Into a bucket
A dessert for the hogs
I spun the winesap
In my hands
Expertly slicing
Separating the meat
From the core
Filling the pan
Carrying it to Mother
She had put the fruit
In a ball jar
Sealing it
Setting it aside
Dumping the new white slices
In the canning pot
Beginning the process again
How good they would be
In the winter
When fresh fruit
Went with the falling leaves
Fried pies
In the iron skillet
The cans carefully placed
On the shelves
In the closet
Among the quarts
Tomatoes, beans, peas, peaches
Strawberry, peach and plum jellies
A perfect garnish
For a cathead biscuit
On a cold winter morning
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