Farmer Of Apple Trees

Farmer Of Apple Trees
© Surazeus
2019 03 17

We should be building roads and businesses 
to connect all of the Americas 
in one commercial system of exchange, 
like China connects Asia in one system, 
instead of building hard walls to enclose 
ourselves terrified in fortress of fear. 

The farmer looks up at her apple trees, 
feeling sunlight gleam through fragile leaves 
of yellow hope, then huddles warm in coat 
of faith that turning of the world will flush 
warm winds of Spring to melt frost from its limbs 
so apples will swell again in white blossoms. 

Opening jar of apple sauce, she canned 
with her mother in the kitchen last Summer, 
she spoons some on hot oatmeal with cool milk, 
and eats while watching news on television, 
then grins at how her old mother would mock 
speeches of politicians with fake words. 

He wants to change our free democracy 
fueled by vibrant urge of capitalism 
into the fascist corporate mafia state 
that allows businessmen to exploit people, 
crushing our system of high education 
so we slave for pittance in factories. 

That is why I want you to attend college, 
the farmer explains to her three young children 
who run outside to play along the river, 
leaping across smooth white stones in swift stream, 
then sit among apple trees and tell stories 
of superheroes they read in comic books. 

Using pruner, looper, and folding saw, 
the farmer prunes branches and twigs of trees 
as late Winter sun gleams from jagged hills, 
breath of her soul puffing in silver mist 
that gleams gold in frosty air of desire 
while she hums America The Beautiful.