バスの中で、宝物。
なぜかJoan Osbourne の、If God Was One of Us を思い出して口ずさんでしまう。
Apple Jelly - A poem by Margaret Atwood
No sense in all this picking,
peeling and simmering
if sheer food is all
you want; you can buy it cheaper.
Why then do we burn our hours
and muscles in this stove,
cut our thumbs, to get these tiny
glass pots of clear jelly?
Hoarded in winter: the sun
on that noon, your awkward leap
down from the tree, licked fingers, sweet pink juice,
what we keep
the taste of the act,
taste of this day.
なぜかJoan Osbourne の、If God Was One of Us を思い出して口ずさんでしまう。
Apple Jelly - A poem by Margaret Atwood
No sense in all this picking,
peeling and simmering
if sheer food is all
you want; you can buy it cheaper.
Why then do we burn our hours
and muscles in this stove,
cut our thumbs, to get these tiny
glass pots of clear jelly?
Hoarded in winter: the sun
on that noon, your awkward leap
down from the tree, licked fingers, sweet pink juice,
what we keep
the taste of the act,
taste of this day.
