Thursday, January 17, 2013

The Miraculous Lemon Tree


Almost within reach, there 
Outside the window, 
The lemons hang 
In ones, twos and threes— 

Many an old demotic song 
Likens the twos to 
A maiden’s breasts— 
Firm, fragrant, rejuvenating. 

I bet even a dull old poet, 
Reeking of death, 
Could fall asleep here 
And wake up smelling 

Like a rose. 



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