Pulse

apples and reeds
winter’s red
heartbeat

Sleep Tight

old apples
wear stocking caps
for their long winter’s naps

Protected by the Labors of Care

piles of wood
wheel barrels of apples
surrounded by the harvest’s securities

Everything In Its time

everyone’s fledged
the nest rests
as apples ripen

Wild Apples

untamed
they grew
particularized

Made

highlights
of light snow
March’s art nouveau

Them Apples

gathering sweetness
rounding with time
growing into themselves

Lingering

baubles above the brook
just out of deer’s reach
last year’s apples