Bones and Apples

The fruits of the past
Excite,
Delight my palate.
Flavours of fire Ignite,
and Dwindle on my tongue.
Dust, and Calcium
Oil and Carbon.
Yum.

But they don’t like History,
like me.
They don’t want Bones,
in their fruit trees.
They like their apples
Clean.
But fossils
planted these trees.
Their history is in all of us,
in Me.
Fruits cannot Exist,
without history!
Soil must have Fingerprints,
to grow Fingerplants.

So I shake a tree,
Angry.
A shower of
Bones and Apples
fall to my feet.
Apples are nice,
But it’s the Bones
that make them sweet.

Nikki Satira