grey as the trunk
of Jep's apple tree and
startling as its age.
Follow her eyes
from old bark to new growth
and bright apples in the foliage.
Reach for vertical yellow
streaks on round red.
Bite, finally
pungent, feral, sweet
the hoped-for surprise
open and encompassing
as her smile.
Taken from the 1990 issue of The Wire Harp.
