Offering
By
Arden Levine
She tells him she's leaving him and he
bakes a pie. His pies are exquisite,
their crusts like crinoline.
He doesn't change clothes, works
in slacks, shirtsleeves rolled.
Summer makes the kitchen unbearable
but he suffers beautifully, tenderly
cuts the strawberries, pours
into the deep curve of the bowl.
She hadn't missed his hands since
last they drew her to his body.
Now she watches them stroke the edges
of the dough, shape it like cooling glass.
When the oven opens, his brow drips,
he brings his hands to his face.
bakes a pie. His pies are exquisite,
their crusts like crinoline.
He doesn't change clothes, works
in slacks, shirtsleeves rolled.
Summer makes the kitchen unbearable
but he suffers beautifully, tenderly
cuts the strawberries, pours
into the deep curve of the bowl.
She hadn't missed his hands since
last they drew her to his body.
Now she watches them stroke the edges
of the dough, shape it like cooling glass.
When the oven opens, his brow drips,
he brings his hands to his face.
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Disclaimer
We do not accept unsolicited submissions. American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2015 by Arden Levine, “Offering,” (AGNI Magazine, 2015). Poem reprinted by permission of Arden Levine and the publisher. Introduction copyright © 2024 by The Poetry Foundation.