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  • Danni Petrilak

Apples

Published December, 2019 in Wingless Dreamer's Winter Passionate Penholders Anthology



Taking large sticks with baskets and

Thrusting into the branches hoping to

Catch just the right one.


Not too bruised,

Not to scraped,

Not filled with bugs.

Just perfect.

Make sure to shine it on your shirt.


Oh, the things you can do with apples

Eat them right off the tree

Cut them into little bits for recipes

Maybe even mush them into sauce

The options are unlimited,

But there’s one thing that’s constant.

You have to shine them on your shirt.


I had never gone.

He took me.

Something about the way I held the stick

Something about the way I laughed when I trapped an apple,

Squealed with joy as it fell

Out of the basket and into the bag,

Something sent him into fury


Not like that—as you grip the bar and yanked.

Maybe watching is just as fun.

Watching teaches what is supposed to be

Done and not done

It teaches that the apple bag is heavy

And can tear.

And teaches that when apples fall from

The bag they bruise.


Go wait in the car—you rip the bag from my hands.

I have to do everything myself—you brush past me

I fall into the dirt, clutching the apples gathered

Against my stomach.

I’ll go wait in the car, then.



I wrote this poem for a project during my sophomore year of college, and despite it's painful inspiration, it's one of my favorite pieces to have written. It was one of those nights where the stanzas flowed out of me like rain, and I devoured every word.


I was incredibly thrilled and honored to hear this poem was the first poem to be published, and really made all my dreams seem that much more obtainable as a young creative gaining traction.





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