Last Apple

I am the last apple
that falls from the tree
and no one picks up."

I kneel to the fragrance
of the last apple
and I pick it up.

In my hands — the tree,
In my hands — the leaf,
In my hands — the blossom,
and in my hands — the earth
that kisses the apple
that no one picks up.

Malka Heifetz Tussman, The Book of Blessings by Marcia Falk