In Another Universe, It's Boy Scout Apple Day
I've handpicked this memory
from a basket by the door.
My two little boys in army
shirts wield not weapons, but
the crunchiest of apples, free
in exchange for a donation.
Today the sky's reddest fruit
hangs low for munching, but
before I bite, I recall the rosy
rounded faces scrubbed clean,
their reflections beaming off
the polished skin.
I don't want the hurt of peeling
back, the blades of memory
slicing so hard, so sudden.
Before the world bruised
them, they were this- fruit
of my labour, sweetness on
my lips.
When after the cutting, seeds
scattered everywhere, too wide
and too far. Except for what
they left behind, to sprout as a
sapling out the corner of my eye.
The roots- so tangled!
A graduate of Queen’s University Artist In The Community Education Program, Rhonda Melanson has been published in several print and online magazines and is a recent recipient of the The Ted Plantos Memorial Award in Ontario, Canada. She is the author of two chapbooks: Gracenotes (Beret Days Press) and My Name is Mary (Alien Buddha Press). She also co-edits a literary blog Uproar.
DIY MFA 