Death Of Apples Poem by Barry Middleton
Death Of Apples
Rating: ★5.0
when the best apple tree
was split and fell in a storm
there was grieving
because I remembered
climbing it
when it was in its prime
the best apple was at the top
and my mother cried
too high come down
I went and got it anyway
and it was the sweetest
and it was mine
when that apple tree fell
I learned a bitter truth
that good things never last
Wednesday, December 28, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: home,memories,temporary life
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5/14/2024 4:39:29 AM # 1.0.0.1119
A wonderful poem, nothing lasts whether good or bad...Wisely written poem.10+
Thank you Mohammed for the comment and rating. It is true that nothing lasts but a shame that the good things cannot.