Little Red Apples - Poem by Donal Mahoney
Not a leaf left on the crabapple tree
instead little red apples hang
like ornaments on a Christmas tree.
Little red apples that spend
most of the winter covered with snow
waiting for the robins of spring
to fly back for a feast
so little pink flowers can bloom
and become little red apples again.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye