4:37 am i open my textbook
along with it a little clementine
seedless sweet and sour
it yields to my touch, and i yield to its taste
a to do list is drawn, i have so much
too much
on my little plate
a huge buffet on a plate meant for desserts
i think of times i was too focused on removing the little piths and peels off the clementine
to notice the juice dripping out of the fruit.
i think of times i was too focused on the labour
to even enjoy the fruit.
the morning clementine gets lost amongst the piles of work and worry.
by the time i look up it has went beyond my reach
but when the day is over i see it in the sky
disappearing to return once again
maybe i can savor the fruit tomorrow
if it didn't rot by then.
YOU ARE READING
lentil rice
Poetryyouth grows on branches of mango trees. pluck them early green and bury them in rice baskets to ripen them quick. love grows on branches of guava trees. pluck them early green and they are solid teeth-breakers. pluck them late white, love melts in...
