Yet another falls behind;
Like an apple off my tree;
Resting on the ground
With mellow sweetness;
Ripe with what was
and what should have been;
The first apples were pulled
With greedy hands
and hungry delight.
Now, more apples on the ground
Than left on the tree.
Fall is deep.
Winter is near.
Frost bite will soon take the rest.
The apples made sweeter by the age and cold.
Only the wise enjoy what is left.

He would watch with his tender eyes.
Almost misting, sometimes.
Almost smiling, sometimes.
I think I mistook tenderness
seeing it as his love of me.
However, he was not tender.
The look covered the lies that
he did not want me to see.
He melt my brains with the look.
No tenderness, just pity
for my ignorance.
"Ahh, she knows better."
But we all grow and see.
Now, I look with tenderness
at him with thoughts
of what he missed.

As it rests before me,
whether this is the chance to take
or leave by the roadside.
Is this the cherry love that tops all?
Is this the last moment of
something sweet that is to be lost
in one guilty, greedy gulp?

With eager eyes viewing.
With hushed tones
so as not to miss the cue.
Sitting on the edge of knowledge.
Just a mist of possibilities.
Not today.
Earnest worry cannot deliver.
Wait another day.

Sit up straight.
Don't slouch with disappointment.
Ladies don't do that.
If it isn't nice, don't share.
Hold it deep inside.
Let it fester.
Don't tell the bad.
Don't make discomfort.
Glow, don't sweat.
Water makes it grow.
You might burst.

Tumbling through the full.
Not merely surviving, but
Truly thriving.
No complexities of living too long.
Enjoying the rounded tastes.
Dancing with angels.
Spinning with demons.
Letting go of the sadness.
Free wheeling delight.

So, Son, I wish it
hadn't happened.
We could always say
why would it happen
to such a good kid like you.
Circumstances surround you
in a way they never have another.
Collapsing on your broad shoulders.
Possibilities crumble like dust.
And what about him.
It is worse for him and his.
With the pain I feel for your mistakes,
Their misery to me is unbearable.
Why does free will conquer good will?
There you stand to face the moment.
My heart aches.
But you are straight and fearless.
You will take your consequence.
I must take mine.