Poetry: Little Green Apple

She was a little green apple;
they threw against the old red barn.
Left behind bruised and broken.
Her seeds weaved into the trodden soil.
And time passed, and her little shoots
pushed through to the light,
and there she grew alongside
the old peeling paint.
Flourishing through the seasons,
and in the summer months,
there you can find her
with her fragrant flowers blossoms,
and beautiful Gravenstein apples.

©Linda J. Wolff 2017 – http://www.urbanpoetry2017.com
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A poetic wordsmith by the mind and a passionate blogger by heart.
Reservoir for Wolff Poetry and mentor for youth writing groups. Life motto: Everything you seek is in the stillness of one’s mind. The place between seconds, whispering of a song between sound.

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