The evening cold comes up
around our toes. You no longer
hear the cricket then suddenly
they catch your attention again
like the flies bred through
all these wet days brushed away
from the plums. Green ones.
Fill my mouth with sweetness.
around our toes. You no longer
hear the cricket then suddenly
they catch your attention again
like the flies bred through
all these wet days brushed away
from the plums. Green ones.
Fill my mouth with sweetness.
from "Wickson Plums"
William Corbett
Photo Copyright (c) 2012 by
Celia Ann Benavidez
registered under the
creative commons attribution...
save it, copy it, modify it
but you have to credit me for the
original photo and you can not
make money off it without asking me ;-)
1 comment:
YAY!!!! Wonderful photo! Well done, C!!!
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