The Apple Doesn’t Fall

Few apple trees will fruit this late
in fall, but I do see a few
in the far misting distance,
the children I’ve known, running
among the trees, nearly bare now.
Those few leaves and remnants
of blossoms pink turned brown
on the ground, how tempting
sweet all the fruit was, when I
ran earlier too, like you.
In the distance, far and far away,
all trees grow barer still,
and all the children will run inside
to try and hide from the coming cold.

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