Apple
Not from a supermarket,
gleaming like a snooker ball.
This one's like pale green wax.
It buckles near the stem,
has the odd imperfection
like a cigarette burn.
Before I start to eat,
I'll blow on it like a book
fetched
from a high shelf,
rub it on my trouser leg
like a cricket ball.
This one can't be stored
or ensure anything
beyond the succulent crack
of the first bite
and a pure electric shock
of bittersweet. It's the real thing.
William Thompson is a PhD candidate in Creative Writing at the University of Bristol. He was born in Cambridgeshire in 1991, and his poems have appeared widely in print and online. His debut pamphlet After Clare is published by New Walk Editions and he is the current poet-in-residence at the Langdyke Countryside Trust.