Stepping Back

And then,

an orchard,

most apples huddled together,

on the ground,

beneath the wilting leaves,

past their prime.

 

Others,

green and blushed,

with a kiss of red.

 

Still others,

red,

only red.

 

Then, 

the stepping back,

on a hill,

as the sun began emerging,

from a day of clouds,

and 

all I could see,

was

heaven.

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