Randall Watson.

As To The Tangerine

What opened

must have closed

around the light

it fed on.

 

And the light, somehow,

must have multiplied within

as the fruit, incremental, swelled

toward its own undoing.

 

Ripeness is like that.

 

It is how the world deceives us.

 

What I consume

is an interruption.

 

What I reap

is brightness,

unsevered, sweet.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s