View From My Window
The Red Apple
The red apple
so juicy and sweet,
sits benevolently on
my palm.
It is Sunday,
word to the wise,
one warm Sunday in June,
and you have not shown up
yet.
The sun chases shadows across
the street,
and the wind pushes locks of long
brown hair out of my face.
I have come this far
and will go a little bit further
and I take out a butter knife
and cut the apple in the form of a V-shaped
heart while I wait for you to return.
so juicy and sweet,
sits benevolently on
my palm.
It is Sunday,
word to the wise,
one warm Sunday in June,
and you have not shown up
yet.
The sun chases shadows across
the street,
and the wind pushes locks of long
brown hair out of my face.
I have come this far
and will go a little bit further
and I take out a butter knife
and cut the apple in the form of a V-shaped
heart while I wait for you to return.
Comment On This Poem ---
The Red Apple
The Red Apple
