Poetry

(after T.T. Cloete)

Where it stands drawing liquid from the earth,
through a system of roots, branches and leaves
while it gathers the sun, rain and wind
it forms fruit with a sour-sweet taste

that is symmetrical pressed into a membrane
of which the smell and taste catches you
when it breaks open in your hand as slices
as if a new wonder hangs around it.

[Reference: “Lemoenboom” (Orange tree) by T.T. Cloete.]