A year in an apple
Crunch into the sweet flesh,
and winter snow crumbles under a black branch
where the juncko lands.
With the second bite, the entire orchard
blossoms pink again in your mouth.
Hold its red skin against your cheek
and it is a hot summer day
but you are cool in the shade
of the tree it fell from.
It is autumn, you are eating an apple.
For a few moments remember the year,
how it opened and fell into a thousand pieces
and how you widened your being.