Johnny Appleseed

By James Hannon

I was only five feeling pretty grown
when Johnny next door came into our yard.

My brother as often was mowing the lawn
as I watched and snacked on an apple.

It seems like it’s always an apple.
When I finished Johnny dared me twice 
to throw the core at my bro.

Like Johnny my brother was twelve 
and said “Don’t!” 
and I just started to laugh.
My brother was cool so why should he care
If a little kid flipped him a core?

I threw and connected and life transformed.
My brother’s blue irises turned to stone.
His words were few but he marched me through 
the front door to see our dad.

I had never, ever feared my dad but 
I learned something new that day.
He took the handoff and pulled me through
the doorway of my room, 
me and my brother’s room.
His words were none, the blows were many.

Left alone on my bed 
I bounced up and down
at five embarrassed by tears.  
I cried, why, why, 
what have I done?
Why have I been forsaken?
I double-asked again and again
as I bounced up and down, up and down
but the only voice was my own.

James Hannon is a psychotherapist in Massachusetts where he accompanies adolescents and adults recovering from disappointments, deceptions and addictions. His work has appeared in Blue Lake Review, Blue River, Cold Mountain Review, Owen Wister Review, Psaltery and Lyre, Soundings East, and other journals. His collection, The Year I Learned the Backstroke, was published by Aldrich Press.