Apple Blossom Time
When I look back at the men in my life
some of the decisions I have made
haunt me.
I used to take more time
selecting an apple off the shelf
examining its texture, color of skin and fragrance.
Gala, Jonathan, Roma all promising
Familiarity, consistency, permanence.
I swear if I could, I would have sunk my teeth into them all,
assuring that their crispness
paired with an exquisite hint of sweetness
was finished with the requisite tint of tartness.
I remain hindered by those years.
The choices I may still make
taunt me.
Perhaps, if I imagined them as edible dates
I would know how to choose them!
I would first ask myself: Am I too hungry?
Are they ripe? Have they turned?
Do they have the necessary nutrients?
Are they possibly poisonous or even mildly injurious?
Are the pits too large, should they be spurned?
For desired qualities I would search the hemispheres:
Sweet with a nice shape, supple; yet resilient.
And of course, they must be very very rich–
in flavor.
I would also inquire how they remained this way
after all these years
without being cynical, critical
or terribly satirical.
Plucked fresh from the date palm on this sultry afternoon
I would wipe the dew from his soft sun- drenched skin
and savor him, long before I start to swoon!
This long winter will be over soon.
With wing repaired
the possible paths of my life
tempt me.
As a bee in apple blossom time.
Published by Loveland Museum Gallery. Inspired
Entitled: “Apple Blossom Time”. 2012
