Free Persimmons
I woke
to the billowing curtains
blowing in the breeze,
and the scent of jasmine
just outside my window.
This once perfect garden now sparse:
the unkempt grass,
the bougainvillea, and
the persimmon tree that we loathe--
an over-abundance of ripening fruit.
The early morning sun
casts a hazy pillar of light
on my bedroom floor.
Don't wake me up.
Copyright © Rickie Elpusan | Year Posted 2008
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