For No One

Apple trees of a forgotten orchard

Bear for no one ten barrels worth of fruit

Years without children playing in this yard

No net to gather, no rifle to shoot

With armies of birds perched from end to end

In combat as they pecked each other’s eyes

On heavy branches where laden boughs bend

Only the quick and strong collect the prize

High above rotting apples on the ground

Bruised by the fall and blemished, near to burst

Where worms make a feast of this mealy mound

If the rodents do not get to it first.