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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=521531" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Nearly Ripe</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=521531" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Nearly ripe, these green apples <br>hang heavy<br>from our bursting tree, <br>the warm evening sun<br>glinting through swaying branches.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=521531" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">They will be ready <br>in about a week.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=521531" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Then I’ll slice them into sweet crescents<br>And their taste will dance upon your tongue<br>with all the secrets our tree has been keeping, <br>its living leaves, <br>its smooth, grey bark, <br>its very roots <br>grasping deep <br>into our dark soil, </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=521531" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">and these glowing, green apples <br>I will make bare and white and moist, <br>a love offering like perfect wine for you, <br>and your taste will delight <br>in the sweet, green love<br>of the earth.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Steven+Federle">Steven Federle</a></strong></div>

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