The First Apple

Her eyes fold gently
as she takes bits of honeycrisp
from my fingertips –
the first from the tree,
still hard, tart,
warm in the thick after rain,
hinting at cinnamon.

Her usual distractions,
squirrel on wire,
bobbing heads of neighbor girls
on trampolines,
lifting reigns of monarchs
and viceroys, mourning cloaks,
slamming doors,
jumbled voices beyond the fence,
bright musks of night prowlers
in the grass,
all ceased to beguile.

As if desirous of desire,
she stiffened at the first crack
of my teeth through the flesh
of this first apple,
then bounded across the lawn
and sat before me,
not as a beggar may,
but as an adherent
to the rites of giving.

Bit by bit,
taking each with neither lurching forth
nor brushing my fingers with her teeth,
her velvet black ears lain back,
her brown eyes reduced
to sweet slices of rapture,
she chews each in its time,
savoring each in its time,
not as a dog may,
but as a disciple
to Autumn’s way
of giving.

Image: Bella by Devon Brock

5 Thoughts

    1. Thank you for stopping by, Lance. I am new here and still getting used to how things work. May I say that I came upon your work in my reader feed and was drawn in fully. I am looking forward to reading all of it. All the best to you as well. Devon

    1. Thanks John,

      It is so good to here from you. Hope you are well. I’ve been prowling the periphery of WoL reading your work, as well as others.

      Your work has turned a bit from the style you were working with all summer, more personal I would say, and lovely as always. I read “Shalom Aleichem” at work today (customer traffic was a bit slow so I took in some reading) The break between “i need, food, shelter, i need… / My father planned his funeral last week” Wow.

      Dogs, yes, they do have much to teach us. I hope your Black Lab is well. Bella is going gray in the muzzle now, an old hamstring injury makes hard play tough on her. But she is a loving stoic, persevering regardless.


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