The day you took your vows
I stood beside you and then
beneath the leaves in a breeze like butterflies
taking flight
my daughter asked me to choose an apple for her
from the orchard and through the forest
she carried it and sang to it
like the last apple of the only autumn
we'd never known.
It crossed the borders toward home
like a sanctified refugee emotion, and waited
dreaming of hunger,
like a lover knowing a letter will arrive.
Until I opened
my mouth as if to scream
and let loose the crackle of thunder beneath
the thick green skin
I couldn't have imagined
the sound a heart makes when it breaks open along an old scar
and the sweet art of gratitude
pours out, filling the distance,
scent,
between one life and another.
