Orchards,

Bite into a fresh macintosh,
Lay down in the grass.
Feel the sunshine on your stomach,
And the buds on your back. 
Your freckled arms pull at your ponytail. 
And then you relax.
Breath in,
Ignore the bees,
Who have infested upon your apple,
thrown onto the path. 
Focus on the purple mountains.
And then close your eyes.
As the sunset melts everything in its path.
"Beautiful..." 
You seem to hear.
But your way too far off,
To care.