My fingers clutched two ripe
pears a little too big for my palm, butting
into the hip end of one another.

She held an apple
on the platform of her hand-
so red and too perfect.

In Wisconsin the apples grow wild
yellow, red and green,  fattening
each day after spring's first blossom.

Ugly and edible brown scabbed apples fall
helplessly after the first frost, the woman's
reaching hand snatches a carrot from a bunch.

She had magazine hands: perfect
for dishes and diamonds. My own-
bruising quickly-two pears
fragile and scarred.