Soon apples

The NaPoWriMo prompt is to write about different ways of looking at something. Not very original, but it’s right under my nose, this poem is about apple blossom.


Tight pink fists,

baby buds,

in a collaret of green,

misty as morning.

Buds break into white snow,

tinged with dawn,

beneath the drip drip of spring rain.

Black boughs bend and sigh,

and snow falls,

wind-strewn tatters in puddled footprints.

Peer now,

among pale green collarets,

tufts of new leaves,

where dawn-tinged petals flutter still,

with their memories of winter white.

See the tight green fists,


sweet and smooth,

soon apples.


Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

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