The Apple

A limb reaching heavenward just as we journey in awkward
crooks and juts and bends at knobby intersections
yet upwardly

The Apple

Fruit snapped free
*Broken open by patio bricks
Devastated potential for late summertime pies
Reduced from crunchy glory to mush
between unsandaled toes of cat-chasing children
SHAME for the squeals of “Ewww” and not “Yumm”

Slung into a yard’s corner
The pitch of an imperfect arm
Wine and rot
Heavy, sweet stink

In decay, a song below the pout of ruined fruit
Mama Earth unfolds her dark skirt
and unveils purpose in a summer symphony
in tasty mysteries (with the fiddling of cricket legs,
the tinkling of rolly poly armor,
the bass of earthworms weaving).

*Broken down …
Protection and nourishment
Scooped to the roots of baby ’tunias, vinca,
dusty miller and moss rose
Luring an audience from under covers to dampen ankles
with dew and praise God in subtle breaths
of beauty and peace
JOY for the sighs of “Ooh” and “Aahh”