Winter Apples The powdery mildew killed my eyes but I’d climb it anyhow an ancient Gravenstein with a pine tar patch in the vee of two trunks My dad’s friend was a jazz guitarist and a tree surgeon to my kid ears ‘tree surgeon’ was as good as Dr. he did the patch and later died of vodka poisoning in his mobile home I picked up the guitar myself and wondered what dad thought about it My dad and the tree look worse each year sooty blotch and flyspeck liver spots and basal carcinomas but big, sweet Gravensteins as if the tree knows these are the last they’ll ever have.
About the Author: Jon Bennett writes and plays music in San Francisco’s Tenderloin neighborhood. You can find his work on most music streaming sites as well as here. His new chapbook, Leisure Town, is available on Amazon here.
Image Credit: Image originally from The apples of New York Albany :J.B. Lyon,1905. Image courtesy of the Biodiversity Heritage Library
As It Ought To Be 
Wonderfully poem. Love all the connections the boy, the man, and the tree.
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