The apple

In the remains of an old orchard –
n apple has fallen

I wipe it off on my sweater –
some grass, a bug or two

It’s not a pristine apple –
some blemishes

They’re not rot or worms –
ugly but they won’t hurt you

I bite into the apple –
eat the whole thing

Eat the blemishes –
that’s how God eats the world

Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light

October 19, 2020

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