Apples
Hanging alone amid leafy branches
Dark ruby red
Occasional emerald
Round and glossy
There in the full, green trees
On the brown, well-worn path
scattered with dry sticks and stones
In my hand
Biting into one
Crisply crunch
Juice splashing and spraying me, my friends
Laughing hysterically
Out of breath
Bellys and mouths aching
The time of our lives