Riffing on Pies

Rhubarb pies, rhubarb and strawberry pies,

mixed berry pies, apples from the local orchard
 baked in a crust thinner than parchment  paper,
sweetened with honey from local bees, blueberry
 pies from the wild berries I picked and collected
in a metal pail when the bushes stood taller than my
raised arm, higher than the water fountain in the
school yard where the only thing that grew
was grass in the cracks and we rode bikes
round and round in circles until old enough
to cross the street