After all, there’s no need
to say anything
at first. An orange, peeled
and quartered, flares
like a tulip on a wedgwood plate.
Anything can happen.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMIx7Opy-YBrd2ha99hyphenhyphenURCjAdDuC7ydy-zhndgAPXT0PvHoKT111ygDli5XLTndZpMCZ-7-oIhx49mtxrkHW1Sur1v4HskRE9muQ6whubNeMbcDzrRoNW29WDcgcOkdfDLYR24ImWHZ0/s200/863622919_accc3360b2_z.jpg)
has rolled up her rugs
and night strewn salt
across the sky. My heart
is humming a tune
I haven’t heard in years!
Quiet’s cool flesh—
let’s sniff and eat it.
There are ways
to make of the moment
a topiary
so the pleasure’s in
walking through.
Image credit: "Moonlight Topiary," by Peter Bond (originally color).
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