The Apple

If I said to you that a single, large red apple
Appeared on our sapling this year,
I would not blame you for being unimpressed.

But 12 months ago, the very same tree
Bore no fruit on its withered branches,
And its leaves curled in pain like arthitic fingers.

Unexpected, miraculous, by late summer
The apple was bursting with red-faced pride
On the low, sagging branch from which it hung.

Not even the autumn gale that finally shook
The apple from the tree for a passing
Hungry fox, could wipe our smiles away.

For isn’t this what nature does? Bring hope
Where there was none. And where there is hope
There is a tree that grows stronger by the day.

Simon Denegri

First draft Dec 20, published May 2021

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