I'm Selling the Cherry Orchard and the Sky by the Bucket

I'm Selling the Cherry Orchard and the Sky by the Bucket

I'm selling the cherry orchard and all the green fireflies playing hidden in flowers,
The deposits of longing I cannot sell easily—because they have an owner in my chest,
But the frozen sky and all the smoke from the village I'm selling by the heavy bucket,
I give clouds by the kilogram, wind only ad-literam, I'm selling rain by the piece.

I'm selling comets by the glass, the Perseids by the cart and the entire cosmic horoscope,
The moon—the unseen part that hasn't been sold yet—I'm giving it away completely,
Shadows only by the sack after I undress them from silent hidden wounds,
And I'm selling from the galaxy the heavy dandelion fluff and light in clay cups.

From the prayer book I sell psalms with cipher and words by the liter only for ascetics,
I'm selling ink on a quill, the green from my eyes only for silent poets,
I sell both grapes and wine only by the full glass, good for holy litanies,
And I'm selling the flight of cranes and liquors of love for the living communicants.

From angels I sell what I can, from demons all of hell, I trade heaven for raw apples,
Winter I sell only by snowflakes, summer by long legs, the rest for false chimeras,
I give lies for sweet words and soap from bubbles for dead mockeries,
And then from what remains I'm selling love for you on a handful of stars.

Everything I have in this magic universe I'm selling you for nothing—for your breath,
Green fireflies dance through my cherry orchard that's no longer mine at all,
Only your love remains—the single thing that cannot be sold at auction,
On a handful of stars I give it to you—to hold in your palms like a living prayer.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

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