Afterward for Ted Kooser’s “Applesauce” by Sher Schwartz
I read “Applesauce” outloud at a Ladies’ lunch and art making event on May 17, 2024. My little watercolor I titled after Ted Kooser’s “Applesauce.”
To see the poem click here —https://poets.org/poem/applesauce/print
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I am so pleased to be receiving your blogs. I forget how wonderful Kooser is…and then am reminded that he did some duo events with Jim Harrison..oh to be a fly on that wall !!
Loved this poem and your thoughts~ for me, memories of summers spent on a Michigan farm, home of my grandparents…..which takes me to my core. What a lucky apple I am.
~Ursula from Portland
Love this! I too have memories of making applesauce – with my mother though we never canned it. I wrote a poem about watching my neighbor can applesauce but Ted’s is much better. And I wrote one during the pandemic about burning the applesauce and having to start over again – trying ti find that sense of resilience. Thank you Sher!
Suzy in Portland
Suzy! I love the twist of burnt applesauce. And, I was wondering if you saw the little watercolor. I write poems in response to works of art– it suddenly occurred to me –what about painting in response to a poem? Have you done this before? Thank you for commenting.
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Thanks your reply; I may start a new trend and do this again read a poem create some artwork. Fun to see where this takes me. 🌺
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This poem reminded me of the older farm women I used to know as a child who brought the most delicious food to potlucks. Everything was homegrown and home-canned. I learned to can as a teenager and have canned applesauce many times, as well as lots of other things. This poem also reminded me of some of the stories from At The End of the Car Line by Ben Hur Lampman, who wrote for The Oregonian back at the turn of the last century. His stories depict a way of living, thinking, and talking that was familiar to me from growing up in the same place he was writing about, the Willamette valley. Thank you, Sher!
Thank you for sharing your memories and connections to this poem. When you mentioned the potlucks– I immediately thought of the gatherings my mother’s family had in West Virginia when I was growing up. These women were incredible bakers–the tables were lined with pies. The coconut cream and chocolate cream pies were famous. Good to hear from you. 🙂
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Hello jane, no problem… even anonymous observations are very welcome. Thanks for enjoying the site and taking time to comment.
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