deepundergroundpoetry.com

Crab trees

 
The crabs are red today
tempting the blackbird
lashed by sudden rain;
they have no names,
bought from a super-market
smothered in a plastic bag
Saturday, late,half price
and almost dead.
Love kept them alive,
through winter they glow
paying back their debt,
breakfast for the blackbird.
through frost and snow
these last ten years.
Written by Kexby (john rickell)
Published
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