many fallen apples are on the ground

I have a ream of paper, 

a cartridge of ink, 

 

almonds, 

coffee, 

a wool scarf for warmth. 

 

Whatever handcuffs the soul, 

I have brought here. 

 

Whatever distances the heart, 

I have brought here. 

 

A deer rises onto her haunches 

to reach for an apple, 

 

though many fallen apples are on the ground. 

 

[Jane Hirshfield {1953- } 'A Ream of Paper', from Ledger]