Sunday, September 18, 2011

My Silver Dappled Apple Tree

By Molly Blaisdell

Out my back door,
across the yard,
My favorite tree stands tall.
Her leaves dance with silver light.
I skip in swirling shadows.
She lobs clouds across the sky.
I pitch a ball toward the sun.
Her branches shimmy in the breeze
My arms twirl and whirl beneath.
I stretch out by her trunk.
She murmurs splendid secrets.
I close my eyes and listen.
She is a good friend to me,
my silver

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