She is the apple of his eye.
One crisp Labor Day
when bands were playing in the distance
and the apples were red on our trees
and my husband had put his hands
around my neck and banged my head
against the wall one time too many,
I quietly gathered up the kids and
disappeared forever.
Fear can make a person do crazy things
and so I left most of the household stuff
behind, paid all the bills, set the checkbook
on the kitchen table and locked the door
behind me. I had already packed the
remainder of the garden into jars.
But when we finally talked, he did not
say I love you
or I miss you
or I’m sorry
or please come home. Nope.
He said
but what am I gonna do
with all these apples.