A POEM A DAY

Strawberries, blueberries, apples,
lemon juice and orange juice,
sugar and slow heat
collide.
I witness
the alchemy of time,
what happens to
sweetness in the fire.
A watchman
over the flames.
Bearing fruit
until it reduces
into itself.
When I say I create,
I want you to hear
homemade. I want you to think
of my hands like a door,
open and ready
to work.