Evergreen in the chaparral biome
You can survive with poor soil and little water
Smooth orange red brown, twisting
smooth
In the cold mountains
You bloom in winter, bare fruit, flowers, berries
in spring, ground hugging or 20 feet tall.
Little Apple
Stay here with me
Tell me your secrets
I will sit on the cold ground
With you
And wait
For bargaining, anger, denial
Grief to end.
You can not,
Will not
Leave me,
And I sigh,
Content;
Haunt me,
grow on my winter skin.
