October 24, 2011

Alzheimer's Orchard by John Noonan

Evening fog moves in to shroud the orchard 
blackbirds fly in low 
repossessing the whitethorn
as I step across bleached grass 

bend towards a drooping apple
where bees are sculpting out a silent structure 
carving out a white cave 
whittling away the sweetness store
deep inside apple's skin.

Dusk settles on my bare arm as I reach in
touch darkening apple skin
and whisper 
Margaret.

No comments:

Post a Comment