Monday, June 4, 2012

Figs and Pomegranates

Figs bursting from their skins,
            tart crunchy pomegranate seeds,
grapes succulent and fleshy,
                        almonds and pistachio nuts,

tactile lusciousness a contrast
            to the aridity of the way
I have come, the desert of my mind.
                        I slouched along,

a camel seeking cool water
            in the mirage of might be,
the semblance of ill-defined promise.
                        My mask covering

the doppelganger that threatens
            to eat its fill, stake its tent,
remain at daybreak
                        to pile its stones.

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