Apple Picking

An apple orchard was close to my boyhood home.
In fall, three-legged ladders walked among the trees.
They seemed tall enough to pierce heaven’s dome.
I marveled they didn’t topple in the October breeze.

Once I tried to see how high my legs might take me.
The weather-warped treads thought to creak an alarm.
At five feet up I knew I had found how brave to be—
I wasn’t keen (as Dad would say) on “buying the farm.”

The orchard teemed with vibrant, wondrous things,
Worms, beetles, bees, and creatures I’d never seen.
There were curious red ants that sprouted wings.
All of it was to my young eyes an intoxicating scene.

Apple-picking took full days for a week to complete.
And then the ladders walked away from the trees.
Each fall, I yearn to return to that time and repeat
Lessons learned about ladders, beetles, and bees.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

Poem

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Gorelick Avatar
November 4, 2014 at 2:46 PM
I love this! Made me think of Robert Frost"s apple picking poem. Ill be remembering "ladders, beetles and bees.. BG
Schneiter Avatar
November 4, 2014 at 4:55 PM
Thank you, Barbara. I value and appreciate your kind, thoughtful comment. And yes, I think Frost's poem influenced me to write about apple picking.
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