“The Apple Tree”



I looked at the apple tree today,

the one the storm did not take,

and saw it still full of apples,

mottled, green/red fruit, some

rotted through with ants eating

at the brown-turning flesh

and I thought of the last months

and what was ripening inside you

and we still didn’t know….

when your breasts were like

the now ripening apples, globes of heaviness, topped with brown nipples.


They lay cradled in my hands warm with life and I could feel them pulse,

the river inside still flowing.


Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2019

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