Unfallen Apple
written by: Rachael Thorp
You’ve held on for months
A reminder of the seasons passing.
I’ve watched the garden grow, recede, around you.
Your skin, once smooth, shining,
Now browned, sagging.
No crunch to consider.
I admire your determination
Tenacity in refusing to drop.
Hollywood star grace.
At Christmas you hovered, proud
Amongst garish artificially lit decorations,
Soon to be boxed up.
Baby pale pink blossom peeked in the spring gloom
You held your place on the limb as
Pastel blushes passed by, greens arrived
Slowly assuring of time –
Leaves of promise. You stayed.
Your presence among them
A reminder of age or
Waiting.
I wondered if you were O. Henry’s leaf
Saving my mind, allowing me to persevere.
Eve’s apple becoming ever apple.
NOTE:
Based on the Prompt – The Last Fruit
I wrote this following a morning walk, a frequent route which I follow. I had noticed the wrinkling of this apple, then couldn’t help watching it almost every day. (It is still there, almost a year on.)
As I wrote, it brought to mind the ways that apples are portrayed and how noticing can keep your mind still.
- Unfallen Apple - August 6, 2026
- Don’t Gift me with Death - April 4, 2026
- Morning Salutations - November 10, 2025
