Poetry

Orchard Days (Transient Youth)

I recall the orchard days
The youthful fruit
Juices flowing
Now the bark
is noticeably gnarled
bathed in the melancholy
gold of mid-Autumn and
the breeze
once blunt and hot has
been burnished to a
clean edge by the brush
of long summer days
and it clips away what
the tree no longer needs
scattering leaves
and years

Categories: Poetry

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