Hedge Apple Poem by John Allen Richter

A hedge apple laid on the road...
It's green-ness contrasting the black tarry pitch.
It's weight too great for the limb to hold,
stretched down, and down, and down -
until finally the weight was too great.
The hedge apple snapped -
Falling, falling to the ground.
And mother branch returned to her proud position.
Almost. But not quite springing back to her glory.
Just a little bounce robbed from her gate -
her stance against the wind a little less worthy.
But there she stayed to shelter her little hedge apple.
To wait for him to find his own soily patch,
where he can root and grow and grow.
Another year, another stretching sag,
another little hedge apple fallen...
and on and on.
And now mother branch hangs so low,
misery and pain her only friends...
Waiting to snap off herself - to fall to
the ground and give fertilizer to what
should have been her children.
But they aren't there.
Because we thought it was fun to smash them in the street.