The Soft Apples

Soon, in the high school philosophy class I teach, I’ll begin a unit on Beauty/Art. One of the ideas we explore is “the beauty of uginess.” This poem is born from said idea.

 

Hendrik Reekers | Apples and a Walnut | 1836 | The Morgan Library & Museum:

The Soft Apples

The soft
apples,
fallen,

clustered
in the shade
beneath

the bare trees,
soft,
like water

trapped
under skin
painted

the colors
of brusies,
rotting, abandon

their essence,
cloud the air
below the trees

with a sweet,
pungent kiss.

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