I brought an apple in,
they’re all over the ground,
sliced around the little
missing pieces
and tasted
food that fell into my lap,
tasted what the crow tasted
before me,
and that back-flipping squirrel,
the worms,
and it was, I don’t know, alive
in a way apples aren’t anymore.
There are so many and
they are so small, so sweet.
The creatures feast on bits
of each delicious shape
and move on to the next,
wasteful as any
of us are with plenty.
S. Robbins from Pilgrimage, Meditations on the Svadhisthana Chakra

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