An Apple Out of Reach

There are some apples that reside way up in the tops of trees.

And no matter how far you stretch, you just can't seem to wrap your fingers about them.

And I know for certain that these apples are best.

They aren't grainy or mealy like some apples.

They're saccharine-sweet, and when you bite into them they crisp louder than you can imagine.

And all the thoughts in your head are replaced for one moment by the cavernous crunch that echos in your ears, and the simple sugars linger on the backs of your teeth, and the skins are delicate and never tough. 

You could rip your arm from its socket grabbing for one of these apples.

It's all for nothing.

These aren't the kind of apples you can pick as you please.

But if you're lucky, and I mean if you're really lucky you'll be standing beneath the tree, and the wind will blow just right, and its mighty stem will snap in two, and the fruit will fall from its place way up in the canopy, and it will land gently in the palm of your hand. And if you don't hesitate or linger on questions of its origins; if you just accept that you've ended up in the right place, at the right time, you can enjoy an apple in perfection. As it was meant to be.

An apple out of reach is a beautiful thing.