unenglishable

here there is a single tree maybe an apple tree in the cold loneliness of the world. on sunny days, awkward souls stretch and yawn, and hobble awkwardly; hungry hands reach for the sky, reaching for something, pushing clouds carelessly aside. they all want their fruit; something they can cram into their greedy mouths, but I, I am content with the shade of the tree, the shadows cast that embrace me   on a hot day, the sound of the wind as it whistles on  through brittle branches  and delicate leaves the warm, sparkling shine of the sunlight   as it twirls   with the motion of your hair       as you reach out your hand       to t