This week let’s write an apple poem. When I lived in New England, this time of year, I’d be in the local orchard, picking my own fresh from the branch and leave with a peck and a couple of gallons of unpasteurized cider. I even miss the smell of them rotting on the ground. But this isn’t about me. This is about apples, a fruit ripe with symbolism and recipes. Write about seeds and trees, write about temptation, write about drizzled caramel then post your bobbings in the comments below.
About Bartholomew Barker
Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, a collection of poets in the Triangle region of North Carolina where he has hosted a monthly feedback workshop for more than decade. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he lives and writes poetry.
Living Poetry 
Apple
It fell from grace in Eden. It fell from a tree for Newton. Without it, we would float in space, no gravity to understand the weight of sin. How sinful is an apple pie, it fills us up with sweet ‘til we expand to fill the universe, a circling coiled snake that keeps all things in place. We can’t escape, we’re doomed to make the same mistakes until we finally get it right and find the garden that we lost, thanks to an apple.
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Posted by nolchafox | October 23, 2023, 4:40 PMA lovely prose poem. I especially like the apple pie bit. Thanks for sharing!
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | October 23, 2023, 6:45 PMThank you, and thanks for reading!
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Posted by nolchafox | October 23, 2023, 6:54 PMLikeLike
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | October 23, 2023, 10:45 PM