Wednesday, November 6, 2013
We've had a week's worth of beautiful days. Fall is such a long and generous season here--just to open the windows in the morning is a glory.
We have enough apples.
We have enough to almost fill the bins
And plenty with little flaws
Up inside the leafy tent
blinking with sun and green
and tangling our hair
with its fretwork of bounty,
We find them hiding--
under their green parasols.
We coax them from where
they huddle together,
Gossiping in their twos and threes,
Whispering the secrets of woody things.
Even though we like the look
and feel and taste
Of tight velvet skin on our tongue--
That clean clear bite of innocence--
We polish one up
to put a shine on
for the mailman.
We have enough apples for the neighbors,
Enough for the birds and squirrels,
Enough for the deer
and plenty for the worms.
Those perfect ones we stretched for--
The ones that slipped from our hands
and fell into the bramble of rosemary--
A tithe for the bees.
And the best,
the prettiest one,
chartreuse and rose and flawless,
To hold in our hand
While we think on the patient goodness