apples lost
to early rot
first blush of red
on mottled skin
a sallow death
sure as sin
crow of night
crowns the branch
boldly pecks
a hole so wide
plucks the worm
from inside
apples lost
to early rot
first blush of red
on mottled skin
a sallow death
sure as sin
crow of night
crowns the branch
boldly pecks
a hole so wide
plucks the worm
from inside