Stuart Bartow

Song

When I was a boy I often visited a friend who had neglected apple trees in his yard, and one day I climbed one as far up as I could go, concealed in the boughs. The tree was about as tall as any untended apple tree will get and I was up there a long time eating green apples that did not make me sick. I recall a day moon, and a humming sound. Maybe the humming was in my head, or the electric bees that wandered through the branches, or clustered on the fallen apples below. Maybe the humming was from the songs the moths were singing. I can almost hear them.

within each apple
a forest
made of stars

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From the Author

Stuart Bartow lives in the Taconics region of New York State, where he chairs the Battenkill Conservancy, an environmental organization working on the Vermont-New York border. His most recent book of haibun is Invisible Dictionary, published by Red Moon Press.

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