Pies

In 1933
hope for the future
did not grow as fast
as FDR had predicted

Papa's hope for a job
did not grow at all

About all that grew
was mulberries--

back of our house
along the creek
in deepest shade

the biggest berries
I ever saw
bursting juicy dark

They made good pies
in those hard times

Some women complained
the fruit was too bland

"Add a little vinegar" Mama said
"and they will taste like blackberries
and look the same
when you cut the pie"

I remember when Papa took
his first bite of pie
he got a crinkle of hope
around his eyes

Notes

McDaniel, Wilma. (2001) Borrowed Coats. Hanging Loose Press, Brooklyn, New York.
Courtesy University of California, Merced Library. Copyright owned by the Regents of the University of California.