A. is for Apple

The old apple tree in our backyard does not produce large, or even very tasty apples…but for about one week in the spring it makes up for the weeks of picking up and composting tons of wormy, brown apples in the fall.

This afternoon has been windy and the blossoms are falling fast. A. points at them as they float down from the branches and says “snowing.” She also says “flowers to apples” which may be the name of her first collection of poetry because she ALSO picks up the delicate petals and calls the “moons” which, I am afraid, dooms her to be a poet.