early
in the morning she
stands
in her apron,
tied neatly in
a bow
around her waist,
polishing
apples.
then moving on
to a pyramid
of green pears,
to the grapes
next.
the bags all
in rows.
soon, the sun
comes through
the window
and her work
is done. if
she thinks about
love, it doesn't
show.
but oh how
the apples shine.
how the pears
do glow.
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