Orchard:time – NaPoWriMo 3

I’m blossom-greedy, circling like a bee,
counting my chickens well before they hatch,

and, yes, the blossom – pink and white,
and the faint scent – sakura, yes, my sister

this time of year, I look for them,
the wildlings, litter-planted –

feed the soil, we say, and throw it
out the car window, tumbling down the bank –

the remnants of old orchards, standing
in suburban gardens, Orchard Avenue,

Meadow Grove, all those names recalling
the old farm, and the olden days.

We planted it 10 years ago, this orchard,
this small orchard, and it’s grown since then, added

my birthday Slack-ma-girdle, two small Bramleys
grafted for us. A sweet chestnut, in memoriam –

it was a raised fist, a defiance, an act of living
in our long, cold dying.

Come summer, we’ll be apple-greedy,
scrabbling for windfalls, peeling, chopping,

gloating over the Farmer’s Glory – sweet and heavy
on the branches, overwhelming –

by September, we’ll be glutted, gluttonous,
the whole house full of apple scent;

us and the wasps, reeling with sugar,
and the white star in Pomona’s heart;

October, we’ll have picked the last of them,
leaving just the topmost for the blackbirds

measuring time by our son’s reach –
he’s our climber, stretching highest –

January, we’ll survey them, prune them,
form the cup to catch the sunlight

that does all the magic. Yes, we’re pagan –
apples our religion.

Day 3 of NaPoWriMo, and I’m still here! Today we are asked to write a poem that covers a long period of time.

4 thoughts on “Orchard:time – NaPoWriMo 3

  1. I felt like I really connected with this poem. I have a few fruit trees that I grow in pots and some fruit bushes as well. There’s not much room for a proper orchard but that’s the dream.
    I’m utterly enchanted by this piece and I’ve been doing much the same with counting my chickens well before they hatch. Wishing you an abundant crop this autumn.

    Like

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