Thursday, October 11, 2012

Fuyu persimmons. What do Fuyu and the last line in a poem share?

A lineage of anticipation. Anticipation through the first bite to the last lingering word. Crunch of the ripe -- you can hear it, smell it, taste it.

Soon, soon Fuyu persimmons will be as plentiful in the market as words. Yummy.

1 comment:

  1. The Slow Day

    not arrows refreshed
    ties confusion back
    facing complex mount bar

    dance so well nightly

    this be fine don't you
    fort in night the rain
    brittle waves undulate

    far eyes between and your heart