The chemical makeup of an
apple. The wavelength of red.
The lineage of honeycrisp and
how it was named, and how it
felt around the teeth of the
namer.

The birthday of the flower of
an apple.
The thinness of the petals as compared
to the skin. The hands of the harvester,
and their warmth, and who they loved.
Who they loved while the tree grew
and who planted the seed and how the
sun touched it,*
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 *Golden delicious,
how the bees danced in its fragrance, blushing the air all yellow.

Aimee Lowenstern is a twenty-two-year-old poet living in Nevada. She has cerebral palsy and is fond of glitter. Her work can be found in several literary journals, including Soliloquies Anthology and The Gateway Review.