The Fallen Apple

Your hungry eyes look at me
depraved, despised, and poverty blessed
baptized, confirmed, and ordained

As I fill myself
I sit dreaming -
cursed, I rest, dying

I raise my head
your eyes like waterfalls
descending - crushing

Asleep, my head falls
and you look up at me
and lay me down to rest

The dirt you kick
over my face
the apple from my hand
you pick and take

And to the Tree
you look and gaze
I now buried and consumed.

by Anthony Borrow, S.J.