I wonder what it would be like to be a Johnny Appleseed,
getting a name in history just for walking the roads and
dressing quaint and
throwing your apple seeds about.
Who decides who the heroes are?
I throw apple cores out the windows of my vehicle all the time,
into the soft ditches of the roads
where I like to imagine them being found and savored
by the birds and little mammals and things
and I always hope the people in the vehicle behind me know
that it’s organic and not trash
but I’m sure they don’t.
I guess theoretically an apple tree could sprout there,
but nobody names me Shari Applecore and writes me into the history books.
Sometimes being a hero looks different
than I thought.
Less glam. More filling.
What’s your superpower?
I eat apples
and throw the cores around.