North Means Up

North Means Up

A Poem by Anna

There was a lonely orange tree
At the edge of  the woods 
Where the scent of daffodils 
Was heavy, after the fresh rain-
I lingered there to look 
For the new oranges 
Just turning green from 
The unassuming white blossoms;
The quiet orchestra of the grove 
In a season lost in time.
It was not the only fruit tree 
But the only one with magic orbs
That were ancient, far away-
I could climb it and leave 
With more thorns than orbs.
The empty lot behind my back
Gave me reasons to hurry 
Haunted, roaming thoughts of
Grandmother's roses
And potions-
And I fall a hundred times 
Out of an orange tree 
Into the shed leaves of early summer. 

© 2023 Anna


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Added on February 13, 2023
Last Updated on February 13, 2023

Author

Anna
Anna

Raos Crest, Nowhere



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