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.