Zach Eddy
Aluminum Apple
For thirty years of service, they hand you inedible fruit.
A mantlepiece memento for the family to remember,
factory-made, alloyed, and mass-produced offsite
from recycled scrap aluminum. I wonder what he thought
when he peered through the metal window frames
of the Ingot Plant, surrounded by so much tree fruit.
1977’s Wenatchee World reads, “Alcoa Cancer
Studies Show No Cause for Concern at Local Plant.”
Outside, a swallow lands on a metal rooftop.
His obituary says, “50 years doing what he loved.”
In the hospital, he ripped out his own breathing tube.
Mike kept his apple by the television. Now Mother takes it out
on holidays, resting it next to his canned ashes, polished
so bright a distorted reflection appears, a crystal ball,
the aluminum apple, a tumor, or a metal heart shining.