The Day We Were Striblings

apple tree

A version of this poem was first published in Sotto Voce magazine in 2009. I wrote it after a visit to pick apples at Stribling Orchards:


We were tigers in the orchard
stripping shadows from the grass,
Stalking dull apples,
red, like marooned barns
pushed against the sky

We played the games of autumn—
picture-taking in the cider hills,
eating cinnamon and mashed apples
from the stone house kitchen,
filling the car trunk
with baked pies and bags of Cortlands

We fell through piles of dried leaves,
laughing like scarecrows,
and climbed into the car

Sunlight bleached the gravel road
where the log house
the stone house
and the clapboard house
stood for six generations of Striblings
And we paused, wishing we were them.



About Sandy Green

I am a poet and children's author. Visit my website at
This entry was posted in Food, Poetry, Virginia and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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