Fires Edge

the lime tree in my garden
is flush
with emerald green gems
a fertile island in a barren sea
I will roll them down to rivers edge
to serve passing strangers
I will squeeze life out of them
into cakes, cordials and curds
juice seeping in to the cracks in my fingers
stings, sharp and painful
like your words
when your day has been long and your temper short
I watched Kinglake scorched from my balcony one day
now it is you who flares like embers
lighting up the night sky
a shooting star set to flash and burn

 

Image: lime tree

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s