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Plum Crazy

by Kristina Woodhill

When Sun yawns
Slouches down
Evening paint in hand
Lazily addressing
My old orchard trees
Brushing trunks
Half in half out
With shadowed mysteries

Then crickets sing
Hangers on
From August haze
September eves
More distant now
Libidos calmed
Rhythm slowed
Almost at most
Barely now
A nodding tease

My plum tree
Full of plump
And juice
Purple skins
Teeth pierce with ease
Once more assumes
That wishful gaze
October knows
As days grow slothful
Rampant vines near by
Crawl on crawl on
Before first killing freeze

A garden jinn
Or wandering gnome
Might hatch a plan
Perhaps appease
In sol's cahoots
Soon spot each plum
An orange hue
Bright Pick me! pallor
Carving out
A plumkin patch
There dangling in the breeze

10/13/2015

Posted on 10/13/2015
Copyright © 2024 Kristina Woodhill

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 10/19/15 at 08:25 PM

Rich in colors and vocabular details, like a painting by Matisse! Heading for my favorites Kristina.

Posted by Joan Serratelli on 10/20/15 at 02:52 PM

So beautiful and so descrptive of this time of year. As usual; wonderfully done!

Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 10/27/15 at 11:27 AM

this is so delightful Kristina and so delicious, and what a pleasure is derived from sinking in one's teeth. what better way at arriving at subtleties of tastes which are absolutely divine, and whose bouquet shall last considerably longer than time or rhyme.

Posted by Kimberly Bare on 12/07/15 at 06:17 AM

Plumkin patch! Genius wordplay here. I love it.

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