It’s a local landmark
in our front yard.

“Is that the building with the tree in the middle?”
they ask.

We nod and smile.

Only the old folks remember
it used to be a

Bleachers built
in a perfect hexagon
around the tree
for bushels of gleaming red
and glowing gold apples —

Jonathan Mcintosh
Cortland Winesap
Golden delicious
Yellow transparent.

Apples on pa's box.jpg

Breathe deep
Smell the sweet
Hear the shouts of sisters
jumping down the bleachers
between the baskets–
our feet zing
and echo
on the wooden boards.

The years transform
the echo
into the whine
of brine trucks
speeding up the road.

When did I get old?

apple on crate



Gratitude for the old cottage that has come round to my life again…

7 thoughts on “Landmark

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