Fruit
This wrinkled flower
doesn't look like much
Thin, scraggly small,
purposeful.
Kind of homely truth
be told - all business.
Not like their showier
cousins
Putting all their
energy into gaudy colors;Into dressing up for the springtime display.
All flash in spring, then gone
Some seeds left behind
for another spring to come.
But in the autumn ,
where each ugly blossom
Clung to thorny vines
or stumpy, scraggly trees
There will hang a bit
of fruit.
And it is to the
scattered places;
To the gnarled
branches and prickly vines
Where the tiny
blossoms did their work;
All business in the
gardens and the orchards -
It's there one goes for
sustenance.
© 2014 by Tom King
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