Sharing an Orange

 

I will share my orange with you,

passing the sharp sweet sections

across the table, and in so doing

pass the branches, the roots,

the sunny days and the rain,

the small leaves and blossoms, 

the whole tree and sky.

I sit across from you smiling,

a child, a woman, and old crone,

eating an orange, existing

as the breeze does, in fluidity.

This orange is gone, but the world

is full of other oranges. One day

we will be gone too, from each other,

from ourselves, from this life,

but time is full of other bodies,

other names, other days. We will

recognize each other. We will pause,

and share an orange again.

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