Apple

A poem about sumchin disguised by an apple.

Elevated by nature,
Hanging high above the ground -
The green grass awaits
Your fall from grace.

But kissed by the sun you are,
And better viewed through his smiles -
So you sail the air
In your mother's arms as a child.

A courted child in mother's arms
Soon to be weaned as part of fate.
The inevitable act of descending
Can be assisted by an untimely break

Of the umbilical chord
That keeps you alive -
Your sweet tears rejuvenate
The dead life within me

As you sacrifice your flesh.
Your succulent sweetness sings
To my tongue. My teeth
Dance away what's left of your life,

Then the remains are scattered
Along the landscape.
Your death leads to your mother's rebirth.
But you are the last and first -

Like YOU.
You will never be regenerated,
Reproduced or replicated -
The product and source of reproduction.

SPECIAL FRUIT

Author's Note

Eat the Water.