apple scrapple

for days all you could
think about was bread,
apple scrapple
to be specific.
warm and wrapped
tight right out of
the oven, sprinkled
in cinnamon, the apples
real and juicy
buried within
the hot dough.
your mouth watered
as you stood in line,
finally making it
to the store.
but there was none
to be found. we'll make
more on Saturday
the girl said, making
a playful frown.
how is it possible,
why even open the doors without
apple scrapple, you
mumbled to yourself,
as you left with a loaf
of wheat and raisons
under your arm.