How Do You Like Them Apples?

Even trees do not die without a groan. - Thoreau

with a boulder in my throat and death rattling in your's

i held your feeble, wrinkled, diapered, dying hand

weeping

not knowing what the tears were for

were they for what was, what is or what could have been

for the good or the bad

all i knew was that you would soon be gone

and i somehow had to go on

in a cold, dark world that just isn't the same

a world that no longer knows you but only your name

a world that suddenly felt a lot bigger, scarier and lonelier

such a crying shame

why do people have to die

why do snakes in garden's lie

what happened to my blue sky

now i know what tears are for

they're for hoping that somewhere is a better, open door

they're for living with less when what you think you need is more

for the lie and aftermath that a two-faced serpent swore

they're for when you don't have time to eat your apple

all the way down to the core

Author's Note

"When the leaves fall, the whole earth is a cemetery pleasant to walk in. I love to wander and muse over them in their graves. Here are no lying nor vain epitaphs." - Thoreau