In the homestead orchard, a cascade
of frozen yellow apples glows gold
against the darkening stands of fir:
I’ve never felt so wise nor so old.
A sister tree tumbles red delicious—
water-cored and rotting, yet persistent
on each stem, each hangs on to glory
with an end-of-life insistence.
Evening falls, the ground mist rises.
The last full moon this year does not fight
to shine. The apple trees spread their wealth;
fox comes to the scrumpies, and a flight
of roosting crows rises in a family fright,
settles to the branches back to sleep.
The year of many apples follows down the night:
I’ve never felt so dark nor so bright.
Sandy Brown Jensen
Homestead Apples
Solstice 2019
In the homestead orchard, a cascade
of frozen yellow apples glows gold
against the darkening stands of fir:
I’ve never felt so wise nor so old.
A sister tree tumbles red delicious—
water-cored and rotting, yet persistent
on each stem, each hangs on to glory
with an end-of-life insistence.
Evening falls, the ground mist rises.
The last full moon this year does not fight
to shine. The apple trees spread their wealth;
fox comes to the scrumpies, and a flight
of roosting crows rises in a family fright,
settles to the branches back to sleep.
The Year of Many Apples follows down the night:
I’ve never felt so dark nor so bright.
–Sandy Brown Jensen
Lovely, multi-layered, rich. I see you at the far end of a darkened tunnel, standing in the light.
Much love in this complex and simple season.
The atmosphere spills over the rim of your words, just like the apples cascade! Love this.
Beautiful work, Sandy. Thank you. I love the feeling of acceptance in it. At least that’s the word that came to me.
This year–for the first time I can remember–I’m already caught up in the sun’s return instead of a drawing-down. It feels odd to be so upbeat at the closing of my year, but I can’t help myself.
As a structural note, I had to copy the sections of the poem and assemble it into one piece before I could feel I’d really sat with it properly. The photos are beautiful, don’t get me wrong. I just need the whole poem together before I could sink into it.