The Old Apple Tree

The Old Apple Tree

Stretching bare arms toward heaven in supplication
For the gift of youth recalled,
The strength for one more summer’s crop,

We know your time has come.

Still I granted you life,
Reprieve from saw and axe,
for one more season.

And the fruit weighing down your tired old branches
being fit for the birds only,
I patiently collect,
Before the creatures of the soil
can claim it for their own.

Thrush and blackbird drunk on rotting fruit,
sing in gratitude,
and my heart rejoices


U. S-W.
alias Friko

Posted over on Friko's Musings