A single apple tree in the orchard behind the house
Never bore a single fruit
It was an apple tree without apples
I used to believe
That I was born upon it
That it had borne *me*
And then remained barren
For by giving birth to me
Had it not already done so much for this world!?
It never crossed anyone’s mind
To remove it—
To use that lovely phrase,
That euphemism—
For, in partnership with the house,
It bestowed deep shade
Beneath it, on a spread-out blanket
On the hottest of days
When the sun was at its fiercest, most raging
A coolness
Almost a chill
Its branches were comfortable
With smooth bark
Inviting one to sit
Stories would be told there
Spun into being
There was an apple tree without apples
A different kind—nonprofit
Fruitful only
In the shade it cast
We would not have sold it to anyone
Nor cut it down for anything in the world
Nor scorned it