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.
_________
G: I am replying unprompted. I enjoyed this orange.
ReplyDeleteI cant tell you how much I adore this poem - such a lovely slice of life - a child, a woman and old crone (but you're not!) sharing such a simple, and simply beautiful, moment. Sigh.
ReplyDeleteI will share an orange with you, too~
ReplyDeleteThe preface here prepares you for the theme of this poem, but not its intricate beauty and simplicity of expression. That second stanza blew me away. It's full of a sense of warmth and continuity, seasoned with just a hint of loss and regret, for coming again new is not the same as keeping what you have this moment. Or is it?Circle game, indeed.
ReplyDeleteGorgeous poem, Shay. I sit here with palm open waiting for the orange and everything it represents.
ReplyDeleteThis poem is next to flawless. The amazing second stanza sections us into the moments of the world, past, present, and future, the sweet taste of life without fear of death, for the perfect moment of this orange on our tongues is eternal.
ReplyDeletegoosebumps good. not much else I can say ~
ReplyDelete