The Fruit That Fell

by on October 31, 2010


Once a year, right when the Autumn air arrives and as the days become shorter, we make a trek to our favorite apple picking grounds in Solvang, California. We arrived late this year to find the orchards dotted with fallen fruit. But the fruit that still clung to their branches were sweet, crispy and absolutely wonderful to eat.

The carpet of scattered fruit was still beautiful to see and photograph, no matter how ripe or rotten they were.

Hope you enjoy this beautiful poem,

- Diane and Todd

The Fruit That Fell

by Celia Moodie

The grass
Flat with fallen fruit
Bruised -
Folded and matted
In your shadow.
Behind your head
With your wild eye
Staring upward
At the mottled light
Of clouds and sun
Through leaves
And branches
You are hungry.
But the fruit is fallen
And you will never
So you leave the fruit
Where it will surely rot.
Browning the grass
For another season.




I stand behind another tree
And watch you.
I touch the rough bark
With my cheek.
I am hungry too
But I have eaten that fruit.
Soft and wet in the grass.
Tasting of moss-green
Forest fungus.
I hallucinate from the
Wild forest floor
As I reach for you
My arms extend – retract -
I cannot touch you.
Starved as I am
My body falls
And I sound like a tree
In the woods.

That no one hears
Crash dow

- Celia Moodie


{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }

1 Kim at Rustic Garden Bistro October 31, 2010 at 12:50 pm

Beautiful poem, and perfectly appropriate snapshots. Love Solvang in the autumn.

Happy fall,



2 bunkycooks October 31, 2010 at 4:58 pm

Lovely pictures of Fall and a thoughtful poem to go along with them.


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