Apple Tree Postscript

Well, here is my apple tree postscript. Oh, the irony does not escape me. The very year my apple tree sonnet appeared in print was the very year our poor old tree lived her last. In fact, the photo has the publication placed upon the tree stump.

You may have read my recent post with the full text version of this marvelous true story. Here it is the essay if you have not: The Mirror Tree. Many times it is a fun writing exercise to write the same story in a different format. Rather than the essay in this earlier post, today’s sonnet is sort of like the Reader’s Digest condensed version. Perhaps it could also be considered a Cliff’s Notes edition. Sometimes a writing could be only a portion of it as in a lone chapter of a story.

I decided to share two poems in chronological order. Here is an earlier poem which could be considered a mere chapter in the life of our apple tree.

The Summer of One Lone Apple

A challenging spring
     too cold, too wet.
The apple tree
Full of blooms,
     petals tossed to the wind.
Two apples,
     the season's only produce.
One lies golden
     upon the ground,
     ready and ripe.
The other hangs
     high in the tree,
     gathering nourishment.
I think myself an apple tree
     this summer.
I bore two.
One is leaving.
The other still clings.

I wrote this one shortly after our oldest child left for college.

Well, back then, I was very amazed that a tree could actually parallel happenings in one’s life. At that time, little did I know this was only the beginning of how nature could mirror life’s occurrences.

My Apple Tree Sonnet

Now, just as my essay mentioned earlier, my sonnet presents the entire life cycle of our apple tree. Since this poem uses far fewer words, I had to choose only the most pertinent (and delicious, since it is about a yellow delicious tree, after all)!

Apple Tree Reflections

Our apple tree was planted when our son
was five. Then multitudes of sweetness filled 
our lives, as buckets brimmed with juicy sun.
Delicious, yellow orbs of crispness stilled
our hunger. Satisfied and high with life.
This fruiting wonder overflowed our carts,
as crisps and sauces yielded from my knife.
The days, the months and years sped quick as darts.

The year our son was college bound, this tree
had only two - as me - and then one fell.
When tree was thirty-three it ceased to be.
That year our son escaped his earthly shell.
This tree as good as dead, revived next year!
She's teaming full of life as loved ones dear!

First Publication Rights, Lyrical Iowa 2021, publication of Iowa Poetry Association (First Place Sonnets)

Just a note on the time line, our tree actually lived five more years after that heart-breaking summer. Dear tree, may you grow many delicious apples for our loved ones on the other side of the veil, most especially our son.

Published by Linda M. Wolfe

Midwestern mystic with varying amounts of mother, teacher, artist, seeker

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