A Honey-crisp Apple Sonnet

Your shiny tight skin bursts

in hues of red to green,

my watering mouth hurts

as I’m washing you clean.

You loose memories free

from a distant childhood,

I think of Grandma’s tree,

climbing up the hard wood.

Crunching bites tangy sweet

just a little too tart

Green apples couldn’t be beat

except by this upstart.

Genetically made,

‘tis a crisp sweet upgrade.