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"We celebrate each thing that grows ... "

'Apple Day', by Ian Caws

#Poetry #Nature #Life
Singular in a plural world, my thoughts bed down. Then there are the apples in a weather turned mild, apples on stalls, between shade on the grass and sun crossing noiseless trees in ripples. We celebrate each thing that grows but mainly apples. Peeled, baked, picked and fallen, leaves on stems, apples all in a day, that glowed with light, survived the summer storms. There is happiness that comes of this, there is a calm in the year turning late that I feel in the touch of these apples. And old customs of which brown, bearded men tell us, we will mean to observe but will forget as nights chill and we gaze down the long silences. We will return to other apple days, we will find the gate to old fields and whistle a tune that brings good memories, sets free all things necessary for single minds in a plural world. We will look on starry midnights and will remember the apples in their baskets, their trays, and stretch to hold cider jugs as firelight dapples solidity away.
#Nature #Poetry #life
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