there’s an apple tree
in the backyard
I’ve written about it before
I was taken by it in fall
when the leaves were changing
and the apples were red
we picked them every morning
cut them up for breakfast
pressed them into cider
baked them into...
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there’s an apple tree
in the backyard
I’ve written about it before
I was taken by it in fall
when the leaves were changing
and the apples were red
we picked them every morning
cut them up for breakfast
pressed them into cider
baked them into pies
but it’s winter now
and the leaves are gone
some fruit remains
on the grey branches
the red has darkened
to near brown
the skin is wrinkled
the core rotted through
I guess there are always things
that are left behind
that we didn’t have time to pick
I hope I picked the right ones
and didn’t leave anything
I shouldn’t have to die
I guess that’s all we can hope for
I guess there will always be
those orphaned choices
blowing in the frigid wind
I guess there will always be
the mornings we had
the sweet fruit on our tongues
and the mornings the fruit
was all gone