Ghost Apples Poem by Mark Heathcote

Aren't we hanging by a thread?
Like ghost apples, the remnants of a core?
Old age, it has to be said
it's a difficult journey; for anyone to endure?
But what beauty is left hanging
has even-me hankering when I mature
will I leave as much dangling?
In loveliness, in other's eyes store.

-or-


Aren't we all hung, by an indivisible thread?
Like ghost apples the remnants of a core?
Old age it has to be said.
Does a difficult journey take and endure?

But what beauty could we too have left hanging
Has even-me hankered when I mature
Shall-I-also leave-as-much dangling
Kindness sweetened with harvest store.