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

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