The Apple Tree

As the leaves sway from side to side,

They fall, dancing on their way down to the ground.

The branches, plain and bare,

Outstretched, calling “come back to me”.

Apples too, fall

Some ripe, some not.

Scattered across the rich soil

On which the tree grows.

Little dots of red as far as I can see.

To that tree that gives

I say thank you...

Apple juice, apple pie and apple crumble.