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Guess what's out just in time for today's Poetry Friday? If you guessed The Loch Raven Review, then you get all the points ever! And in the latest issue of The Loch Raven Review, you will find a copy of my poem, "Fallen Apples", which goes like this:

Fallen Apples
by Kelly Ramsdell Fineman

Apples rot on the orchard floor,
abandoned by the farmer. His child,
now a grown man, killed
in the war. What point in apples
once your child is dead?
What point in faith or fortune, sun
or stars? His grief all the burden
he can bear – a bushel basket more
would overwhelm him entirely.

He struggles to recall joy.

He is not the only one who knows
this brutal loss. Surely it should come
with its own name. The Inuits
reportedly have many words
for snow. Grief,
like snow, differs in color
and weight, depending
on the loss. He questions what
to do next, prays the Universe
will offer peace, will say
there is a point in going on.

Young Tom will never return to this farm.

Useless to keep it, when a developer
will readily pay to plow under the crops,
fell the trees. He cannot explain, even
to himself, why he stays on, each morning
the same: He gazes at fallen apples,
herds goats into orchard aisles to gorge
on their decomposing sweetness.

© Kelly Ramsdell Fineman

I hope you'll check out the online issue, and the other fine work it contains, as well as checking out the other Poetry Friday posts today by clicking the box below!

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( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
Feb. 22nd, 2014 01:14 pm (UTC)
Fallen Apples
Oh, Kelly, it's lovely. My favorite lines:

like snow, differs in color
and weight, depending
on the loss.
Feb. 22nd, 2014 06:00 pm (UTC)
Re: Fallen Apples
Thanks so much, Karen!
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )

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