Two apples twinkled among green leaves,
And I stood thinking which to pluck
For my arid lips, lengthy unease
Shaded one in the darkening eve
Cautioning me of obscured muck.
I reached for the other, just as bright,
A thinner coat of wax on its skin
After being shined on my sleeve’s inside,
Though both glowed in the waning light
Similar as identical twins.
Under the setting sun they called
My hands, inviting by freshness.
But my decision couldn’t be stalled.
Knowing that as life went forward
The chosen apple would go amiss.
I left behind the waxed apple,
I’ve chosen one simpler than the other.
Of the two, I plucked one less ample
In its shine; a genuine sample,
And today that is all that matters.