Orange pollen highA Poem by Jon Roggie
Before any assumptions are made,
I was trimming the orange trees. I have to pace myself. Now, my lungs might be reduced, and the lack of oxygen shows, still. If a tree grows, especially one giving you fruit. You give it some love. The love is returned. It might take a season.
© 2018 Jon Roggie |
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Added on March 13, 2018 Last Updated on March 13, 2018 AuthorJon RoggiePorterville, CAAboutI tend to ramble, and rarely explain myself. Take that as you will more..Writing
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