There is simply nothingso luscious looking astomatoes buzzingin the sun, unlessit’s apples cracklingin the orchard ofa cranky old man, oryou, double-stemmed,many-fruited, beforeme on the stairs,your ripeness all.
oh gosh, hopefully there is no end to your poems ... don't tell us they stop after page seven!this was a celebration!
Very delicious. Yum.
Don't know what to say, except Thanks.
Post a Comment