Poem: I am not Expert on Pruning

I am no expert on pruning

Sometime in March we hack away at our overgrown apple tree.
And we haul ungainly limbs over to the pile.
Though the branches smack at my ankles and cheeks i toss them down for a later spring fire.

Cut away from from their roots, they still bloom.
Offering their delicate pink, their subtle sweetness.
They still dream of fall fruit. Apple's for the taking.


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