Armful of Apples Lauren McBride
Bike basket empty
racing down country roads
hair flying, lungs gasping
cider scented air.
Orchard sprawling
across a hillside
under arching autumn blue.
Red apples hanging -
me reaching, stretching
for one more, just one more.
Bike basket brimming,
barely balanced.
Slowly pedaling back
with my treasures:
a brown paper bag
full of apples
and sweet memories.
Poet’s Notes: One of the perks of going to graduate school in the Northeast (USA) was being able to enjoy the locally grown, fresh, crisp apples. Having no car and no money only added to the experience I've shared in my poem.
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