The ripe red clustered berries hang and wait;
Their canopies are leaves of luscious green.
What rain-intoxicated lusty state
Lies in them, trusting that they will be seen?
Their neighbour tree still reaches for my pane,
With yellow features in her loosening leaves.
Time teaches that her grip is on the wane;
Her sun-bleached heady days won’t be relived.
But, evergreen, the titans stand in line,
Prepared to guard me from the sight and power
Of grey and white, and cold and rainy sky;
They’ll brighten me and keep my thoughts in flower.
I see them: temptress, hag and sexless gods.
The season comes when only one applauds.
Wed 6 Sep 2006
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