I lay there, ripe.
Swollen in the wet grass.
My brightness catches your eye.
You pick me up,
Inspect me for flaws.
Rub me on your sleeve.
And then,
When I’m ready,
You bite hard,
Into my delicate skin,
Concealing the soft,
Yielding flesh inside me.
My sweet juices,
Fill your mouth.
Drip down your chin,
You lap at them,
With your tongue.
Soon, I am devoured to my core.
You fling the rest of me,
Into the woods.
Your task is complete.
And mine.
For I am here,
To sacrifice my flesh.
And return my seeds,
To the earth.


7 thoughts on “Apple

    1. Thank you! I sat down to write a poem about a something totally different and this came out instead. Funny how that happens. πŸ™‚

    1. For we are but the fruit of the earth. That sounds like some New Age woo woo, but it’s true. Our destiny is to be devoured by the earth, imparting to it the nutrients in our bodies, and leaving our seeds behind.

      I keep discovering more layers in that piece, but I swear I sat down to write a poem about nothing more than someone eating an apple. πŸ™‚

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