Mourning Sun

I waited for Marley, but she would not be coming. The apple trees were no longer blooming, but fully ripened now. As a cloud passed over the morning sun, an apple fell, rolling down the hill. I gave chase, as it rolled over the mossy grass, it’s red flesh becoming a blur. Eventually, it fell over the edge, deep into the ravine. I felt a sense of great loss, but also one of returning contentment. I imagined the apple would be carried away by the creek, taking root, and hopefully bearing fruit someday. Life was returning to normal without my Marley.