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Poem: The Orchard 

Ripe fruit bows
as grape clusters would.
One perfect apple
beckons from
the branches, laden
like garlands for
the mantel.

My lover climbs toward it
finding lower limbs
to support him.

With amazement
I watch as he bites
into crisp sweetness,
his breath billowing
in the autumn air.

How simply he takes
this life. Moment
by moment, for
his enjoyment

Speaking of...

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    Four autumnal monoprints by Mikhail Horowitz.
    • Oct 1, 2016
  • Well Spent: Fall Edition
  • Well Spent: Fall Edition

    Every season’s got its own appeal in the Hudson Valley, but fall’s got it all. From artisanal wood furniture to apple cider donuts, here’s a local harvest of spend-worthy makers and shops.
    • Oct 1, 2015
  • Editor's Note: Sweet Season
  • Editor's Note: Sweet Season

    Brian Mahoney reflects on falling for summer.
    • Aug 1, 2014
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  • A poem by Kaili Taka


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