Eating Apples by Thomas Zimmerman

We dream a golden sunset
                                                 in the apples that we eat,
and when we kiss between the bites,
our thoughts commingle, 
                                              wild sweet wine, the ichor of alive.
                                            __________
                                                                
Gray horses leap beyond 
                                             the faint horizon line: the storm arrives.
And you lie back, your eyes a-swim, twin eggs of tears.
The years just bleed, and lead 
                                                      so soon to death, you say. 
                                               __________
                                              
Rain licks the heaped green platter
                                                               of the earth.
I've read that no one’s heart is evergreen,
that each burns red, then glows 
                                                          a mellow gold: we learn about the world.
                                               __________
                                                                           
So take my hand and feel
the tree's firm fruit 
                                   that cools your angst,
the myriad leaves that kiss you oh-so-tenderly 
                                                                                   in their descent.