One seed falls to the middle of his palm

he can taste the sweetness of apples

as he envisions many trees

gently swaying in a spring breeze

crisp dreamy air

beneath the lush green grass

lively roots that twist and turn

drinking the new rain

bathing in its clarity

the rich soil

cradles the roots

holding the life of the seed


he walks up

to the very top of the hill

and smiles as he notices

a green stem emerging from the ground

small and fragile

he thinks about the day he planted it

and what it started out as

just a tiny seed

in his large palm


after many seasons and flower blossoms

two years had passed

his plant begins to bear fruit

the fruit starts out as a shade of green

and then transitions

to an unexpected vibrant yellow


The man is struck with confusion

he contemplates the characteristics of apples

and the many different types

this is unlike anything he has ever seen

he takes a bite

quickly realizing that the skin is rather thick

he peels it

the inside more tart

than any apple he has tasted


he makes a pie of the fruit

it’s no good

it is very tart whichever way he prepares it

the juice is tart as well

he sweetens it

beginning to think about the size of the tree

considerably smaller than that of an apple tree


“Maybe this isn’t an apple,” he says

as he drinks the sweetened juice


he tries three more glasses

forgetting about the apple orchard

he had often dreamed of


sometimes your sail casts you in a new direction

the discovery of the lemon