World Poetry Day!

Saturday, March 21, 2020 | 10:20 AM

Fern Hollow by Peg Fifer

These woods are mine, although, tax receipt I cannot show, nor do I know how runs the line or where its many acres go. These woods are mine as sure as snow will drift and blow in powder fine; as sure as warm winds blow and sing in summertime; or autumn mixes air with wine, these woods are mine.

[Most of Peg and Mike Fifer’s former farm on Magee Road Extension is now the Fifer’s Fields Conservation Area operated by the Hollow Oak Land Trust.]

Whiffs from a Log by Peg and Mike Fifer

The essence of the apple’s good

Must be locked in apple wood.

The smell of apple smoke to me

Is redolent with memory.

Apple butter brown and spicy,

Apple cider sweet and icy.

Apple pie in golden wedges,

Fragrant wild crabapple hedges.

Apples new and apples old,

Apples red and apples gold,

McIntosh and Stark’s Delicious,

Apple Strudel, apple dishes,

Apple jelly, jewel clear,

Taffy apples tots hold dear,

Bacon smoked by apple wood,

Apple anything is good.


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