Author Information
In the Orchard
It cooled his face to sprint across the ground,
Unbound by gravity. In gaping strides
His chicken legs traversed the narrow fields.
Exploring ranks of nature's property.
While siblings lay on shag beside the fire,
Retired shortly after supper's end,
Young Johnny galloped with his digging spade
And hoisted fruits in stylish reverend.
he held them inward in his palm above:
"Oh pity pity for this aged flower,
Who now becomes a casing for a seed.
Let him have his peace, now that life is done."
And in the darkness of the orchard John
Fell sharply to his knees to claw the loam,
and one by one he lay the wrinkled skins
In graves with faith in cyclicality.
