Roam phantoms
of my little
lost self,
Playing, running
around the apple trees

Happy is
the laughter
of my twin sister

Through the kitchen
window Mom fixes
dinner

Her smile bastes
the turkey
for Thanksgiving

Roam phantoms
of my little
lost self,
Playing, running
around the apple trees

Now
the fallen apples
rot on the ground

The backyard
of my past
is sullen wet
with leaves