Focus on Apples
A year reviewed; A Tanka series
We had apple trees.
Wolf River and Northern Spy,
two types of many;
both Dad and Grandpa grafted
new tastes onto old flavors
I see my Father
with trimming shears and clippers,
high in the branches.
Each late fall, each early spring,
his thumb green as the grasses
Beauty, mixed with hope.
we saw in each Spring’s blossoms.
God’s pledge of plenty;
Cider, cobbler, apple crisp,
pies, and snacks, and applesauce
Leave green apples be
the grownups would admonish.
Wait til they ripen.
The seeds should be brown, not white.
You will get a bellyache.
Grab baskets, bags, boxes
harvest time is here at last,
came with fall and school.
Pick the fells before they rot,
then apples on the branches.
Now peeling, slicing.
No coring, that is wasteful.
Cut out all bad spots.
Don’t worry about the worms
they’re just good healthy protein.
A belated response to Brett Christensen’s prompt word ‘ripe’
A clarification: We did not deliberately eat the worms. My Dad, who will be 98 in June, did tell us they were good protein and would not hurt us.
Better worms, perhaps, than pesticides.
Q: What’s worse than finding a worm in your apple?
A: Half a worm.
