Poetry

Peaches, Somersby

I have felt firmness touching your mother’s, my daughter’s, belly and finally the poem is finding its way to utterance which has been with me even before she was born, coming to me when we stayed on a magical orchard where the family there were bright and blushed as their fruit and I met their first-born in among gusts of mist and cups of tea and great projects undertaken gladly and that day walked out among the ripening peaches immediately after a shower of rain, wisps of mist clinging to branches weighed heavy and dripping, and saw the shy curve…

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