Comfort is the old and familiar
bridging heaven and earth.
Comfort is shade and ripe apples,
pastel patterns and companions dozing.
Here are the old apple trees
as the generations of the dead
with knurled limbs reaching,
trying to tell us something.
We look for tender bud newborns
- the fruit of those we know -
or dead brown in Fall's frost
with a new cycle in the offing.
The cosmos accommodates
these episodes in time
- from here we know not how -
and there's rebirth in the Spring.
(c) 2018 Larry Kilham