The Mulberry Tree
outside is farther from
my window than the sun-
light that penetrates
my bedroom, 2PM-4PM.
The sun's yellow ribbed
lines against the walls bar
the shadow of a stick
that sways as if to scrape
the paint of butter
vanilla hues. The tree,
shaped like a menorah,
is dappled with fruit colors.
I think of exits,
with their ruby glow.
His. Mine, especially...
the mauve violet
tinge...
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