growing through a dying frame

farewell, farewell 

my summer orange

to your roots with teeth of lore

and thoughts asunder with lovelorn concerns

i can't imagine a house without a heart

or a fire without a flame;

peeling through the wounds i marry

but i can't even remember their names

the vines are reaching heavenward

their souls are bleached by guilt;

gathering flowers discuss the coming rain

and they agree that it is too many years too late

beneath the crown, they kneel with decades;

they surrender the posture of their pride

for the principle of a fixing prize

that is the price of losing hours to the pendulum 

...farewell, farewell

my summer orange

i'll not forget how you tasted in the shadow of a doubt