April Poetry | Orchard in Afternoon

ORCHARD IN AFTERNOON

— Ingrid Karnikis —

You brought a bench from the barn

so I could sit in the shade

of an ancient apple tree

It is harvest time; early this year,

just mid-September.

The grapes are ready.

Birds know

as they gather,

a silent commotion

in the top-most branches

of the trees.

I sit, still as a stone,

while bold birds

graze my cheek with their wings.

The grape vines,

unpruned for a year—

reach to the fruit tree’s lowest limbs,

twine around small branches

as if to embrace their common life.

Grapes hang from the apple tree—

apples grow on vines.

This whole green world pulses

with the song of insects, rustle

of leaves, and call

of Blue Jay.

You come to me

in Autumn light

and lay a perfect bunch

of purple grapes

upon my lap.