a woman peeling apples, with a small child 

straight off the blade she hands 

it over her small hand the long peel for divination
 
the long peel hissing like a boa constrictor         how long 
it must take to dress the daughter in all of her
 
gathers & kirtles & caps 

her pinafore pockets full of oyster shells yes


what she can't see     what hurts her eyes          & like a genre painting I'll include

the image of another             painting or         a mirror
or a dog           
                  how Vermeer preferred women working alone
 
                                        how this also      uses natural light in an otherwise unlit interior

when the old woman peels apples she's surrounded 

by circles & keeps         her book in good light             & when 
she is young it's a rich   brocade              steady hands 

a hairband & a little jut of thought in her jaw                           (see also dutch        quiet   )
Credit

Copyright © 2014 by Pattie McCarthy. Used with permission of the author. This poem appeared in Poem-A-Day on February 13, 2014. Browse the Poem-A-Day archive.

About this Poem

"This poem is from 'genre scenes,' which is a series of ekphrastic poems responding to paintings of interiors and/or paintings of women working in the home. I started the series to learn more about the 17th century Dutch genre scene—including how its historical reception has reflected cultural response to the domestic."
—Pattie McCarthy