Gemma Millar

Among the apples


Among the apples sat a fresh young leaf,
Through the branches,
To the ocean she could see,
The fruit pickers came,
Time and again,
Over the years, stealing her friends.
The young leaf wallowed, as she began to age,
And spent all her time thinking about that day…
That day, when she nearly left home,
The day she decided it was time to go,
The ocean was calling,
Begging her to come and play,
She had been too scared, and decided to stay.
Now all her friends had gone,
And on her own she stayed.
The ocean didn’t call anymore,
And the pickers didn’t come,
The apples were not plentiful,
As to the years, the tree had succumbed.
So the leaf sat each day on her branch,
Wishing she had left, when she had the chance.
Knowing her thoughts would get her nowhere,
She broke her own twig, and fell through the air.
She assumed she was to fall to her death,
When suddenly she realised, she hadn’t hit the ground yet.
With slight hesitation, she looked around,
The ground beneath, was far to be found.
She let her veins relax, as the wind held her tight,
She felt safe and secure, and let go of her fright.
The salty breeze, engulfed her at once,
She enjoyed this feeling, as in the wind she spun.
Her friend the wind carried her to the ocean, where she had never gone.
When she asked is this the end?
He replied, no, you’ve only just begun.

Late 2005.