It's
December and oranges are center stage. Scene through windows looking
out, looking in. What's written in a notebook that will find it's grave
in the same place orange peels call home. All made for growing. I saw a
one foot plant proudly holding fruit from her tender arm, today. You
don't need to be big to be sweet. You don't need to be tall to say it
all in your own way. At the center of you is honey everything.
More poems and photographs here
