poetry & things

Orchard 2

Drops – reddish rain on skins

slid dripping, pooled the leaves curled

Steps on stems break, gold the dawn awakes

windy wrecks of nests unhinge

needles, twine thru twigs

Ladders leaned

steps for splintered fingers

Blossomy buds plucked thru rungs

gone the breezy days we sung

Apple worms burrow

dig the beaking birds

Bees have flown homeward

In September’s slanted sun

we gather sweetest reds

Crisp the air drifts,

through branches overhead

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