Apples

We never before had so many apples,

the trees hardly could carry them all.

Thousands of apples, and

what to do with them?

We harvested as many as we could.

We gave them away;

friends and neighbors drowned in our apples,

grateful only in the

beginning, then: no thanks,

we already have enough. How many can

one eat? Get real, I mean: we need

a barn, a basement, some

place to store apples.

We harvested many, but there were more

always more. The tree

up front was the worst. Laden, I mean

packed. They were the best, so

delicious, red and green,

the perfect apples for snow whites stepmother.

I produced apple sauce and cake and

pancakes with apples, juice,

you name it. I left

some in the little garden house to see:

would they give us a

taste of harvest upon our return

at the beginning of

spring, of another life?

(March 5^th, 2013)