Cider Fruit

By maudsy
Thu, 30 May 2019
- 285 reads
3 comments
Round, rusty red and hanging,
Mocking science, rendering Newton absurd
Swinging steadily in the stillness
This seed of clay, enslaving
Time and absorbing what
Others pass over
A skin, weather-raddled and
Scraped, each concrete scar, each
Bite of Eve’s teeth, etching
A lost topography,
An ancestry of gnarled barks
And inadequate limbs
Succumbing to densities they
Could not comprehend nor
Sustain
Fall now and sleep…
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This is wonderful! It's our
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