Sunday, April 14, 2002

Apple Tree

Baby tree
Alone and free
Growing slow
Soon proud and big

Growing, growing
But not going
Stays awake
Watches and produces

Small objects
No complex
Sweet, but sour
Just a few more hours

No one knows
Which one goes
Now colorful
Soon gone

Red and round
Falls to the ground
Into the bushes
Where it can not be found

It is soon forgotten
When it becomes rotten
Thrown away
Not wanted anymore

Nothing is changing
Everything is new

But nothing ever changes
__________________
14 April 2002
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