Apple-picking
Updated: Dec 31, 2020

And every day is flaming
Burning up red, sun, orange
Skimming our hair
Under a rusting bridge
With a crimson dotted gorge
When sunset passes,
Beautiful in the only light
It'll ever give us.
We smolder against a blue-edged sky
That blinks in the glare of the apple
Of my eyes of your eyes of
A forbidden tree
And a gold-tinged meadow
Sparking sunshowers
In each sky iris
Pray now from your place above me
Crowned in sienna leaves
That we will
Slow burn asunder like
We will never be doused
Never blacken into coals
Never disintegrate
Into dust
Just part, like
The reddest of apples
And the sweetest of lips.
Like our mottled skin
Will be kindled and
Lit again,
And again,
And,
again.
Every day
Is an apple seed planted
Sparking down my throat
Tilling goosebumps
Up each arm
Till I’m melting
In this blue.
Melting for you,
To water
This apple tree.
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Esti Goldstein is seventeen years old and lives in Shaker Heights, Ohio where she has long been inspired by the beauty of the suburbs where she is especially grateful for autumn. Much of her inspiration comes from her own life, the current culture (no, Snapchat is not included), and the stories that she has been told. You can often find her running, laughing with friends, writing (of course), and her mother’s favorite: doing nothing, which she would rather call daydreaming.

Isabelle Lu is a 16-year-old creative from Long Island, New York. She is a winner of the New York Times Student Editorial Contest and the Scribe Writing Contest in poetry. She likes collecting strange earrings, which when worn may hinder activities like playing the cello and putting on sweaters. In her daily life, she can be found doodling and enthusing about books to unsuspecting innocents. Her art career began with magical girls.