Apple of my eye
“Hardly,” retorted Ginger Gold,
a few trees over.
“You’re as dull as dirt compared
with me. I glow so goldenly,
even the sun burns with envy.”
“Y’all are delusional,” drawled Honey Crisp
with hand firmly on hip.
“I’m the sweetest by far. Like a river
of honey flowing through the land,
“Beauty!” snorted Rome.
“Who cares about beauty when
you can rule? All you see before you
is ruled under my mighty stem.”
“You wish,” growled Empire.
“I conquered this orchard
when you were but a little flower.
Everyone knows the extent of my
power, and you are a fool to pretend
you rule even the branch you’re on.”
“Ha!” chortled Granny Smith.
“All of you are fools! Your time
in the sun is a mere sliver,
and you are fools to boast so.
You’re either going to end up
crushed between someone’s teeth—
or, if you hang on long enough,
old and pruny, then you
drop to the ground.”