Sunday, March 8, 2009

The Orchard

In the rancid sweet I smell it -
WASTE. And for what!

The evidence is there for all to see:
Shady grasses littered with pits half-naked,
half-clothed in fruit flesh
oozing and bleeding, smashed
like a hundred broken hearts.

I pay homage in my mind to the fruit.
Once it clung determinedly among the branches,
withstood each enticing, tugging tendril of wind,
persisted amidst the nibblings of lustful enemies.

Each fruit was once the jealous guardian of her own future,
willing with all might against premature plucking.

Time passed and the fruit became ripe,
some overly so.
Skins once bright and taut began to wrinkle and spot.
Stems pulled against branches with unnatural heaviness...

The fruit fell.

Some blame the harvesters that never came,
or came too late,
but as I mourn so much goodness wasted!
I begin to hate
the orchard.

11 comments:

  1. Nice poem. While I was a missionary, I worked on the church-owned John Johnson Farm apple orchard for a few months (it's where they sent all the struggling missionaries...). I was amazed at how many apples were left on the trees at the end of the year. It was wonderful, though, to have several fresh apples off the tree each day.

    ReplyDelete
  2. that was dismal, depressing and melancholy. I like it. plus, honestly, doesn't it make you cringe when you see the waste that could have been jam, applesauce, bread, pie, or the like?

    ReplyDelete
  3. Thanks Reuben and Erica!! I'm glad to know I didn't scare EVERYONE off with my attempt at waxing poetic...;)

    ReplyDelete
  4. Ok, after one read, I love your writing, but I'm not sure about the deeper meaning. I don't think you're nutty, though. I think you're amazing, and your writing is talented and thought-provoking. So I'm glad you shared, even if I didn't have time to read/comment until now.

    ReplyDelete
  5. P.S. Here you go, blogging about FOOD again! ;)

    ReplyDelete
  6. The fruit is still goood! I am sure we can fruit leather it and save it in my food saver for later. DO not worry....there is still hope.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Ronnie, you kill me. Hilarious! ;)

    ReplyDelete
  8. Sarah,
    I liked your poem and always enjoy reading your posts but I am guilty of the Bloglines syndrome: opening everyone's new posts at once and not commenting on any of them because I mean to come back to them a little later.

    And I agree with your friend that talked about no pressure in light-hearted posts. But I strongly disagree that you should use the word boobs in a post. If you do that I will probably stop reading your blog.

    ReplyDelete
  9. I followed your link here from The Apron Stage because I love the movie About A Boy also (although I've only seen it once. I need to see it again.) Anyway, I think this is a fine poem (even if dismal and depressing, as Erica said.)

    ReplyDelete