In an old cellar mason jars
full of canned sunsets line
the shelves.
ripened years ago.
they have names like
sylvia's famous peach
halves.
each has a piece of paper
with a bible verse written on it.
one day a slim figured girl will
ask her grandmother to try some.
she will reach for the jar of john 15: 1
' i am the true vine and my
father is the vinedresser.'
snap and the lid will come off.
with a warm smile the sweetness
of a parable will be turned
into a crisp cobbler.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem