by Ethel Mortenson Davis
Rosy-red crab apples lay
on the ground in front of us
as we walked in the chilled air
near a forested lake.
Fifty years ago
the same red crab apples
were picked up
by a college student
as she strung them
on a string around her neck.
She knew this was a beginning
of the path she would follow,
a path centering herself to the earth.
This also was a period of darkness
where a string of blackness
would catch her in a trap.
But there were people
like the shepherd mother
of the small dorm where she stayed
who taught her
there were good and trustworthy people:
apples that lay at our feet,
red like young girls’ cheeks
in the chilled fall air.
fourwindowspress 
I love this, Ethel. As always, beautiful poetry.
Thanks Betty. Love Ethel
“good and trustworthy people”
They are among life’s treasures. May we always find them and find ourselves among them too.
This is wisdom! Love Ethel
❤
That’s beautiful Ethel.
Thanks John. Love Ethel