poetry & things

Orchard

Drops of reddish rain on skins

slid dripping, pooled in leaves curled

Steps on stems break dawn’s awakening

Little wrecks of nests unhinge

twine thru twigs

Ladders leaned

steps for splintered fingers

Blossomy buds plucked thru rungs

Breezy days go shining

Apple worms burrow

for beaking birds

Bees have flown homeward

In September’s slanted sun

we gather sweetest reds

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