Friday, March 23, 2007


I’ve ripened in the rough for quite some time,
beside an orchard where the scent of lush
fertility belies the sudden rush
of woeful winter’s unrelenting rime,
which soon will steal the succor of the dew.
Amidst these blades I sometimes catch a peek
of distant canopies and wonder how
I ended up here, overcome by cow
manure pies encrusted with flies that reek
so strongly, often I can’t even see.
I think about the branch I never knew
is it the one from which my tartness grew?
There is no broader breadth (it seems to me)
than that between the apple and the tree.


ozymandiaz said...

Robert, wow, powerful poem. I would interpret this being about a missing father figure... or perhaps even being orphaned but for some reason it rings of an absent patriarch.

rch said...

Hey Oz, yes you nailed it. Some of my previous posts got me thinking about family I've never known. Thanks!