S T O R I E S

Another Summer

Chicago

P O E M S

The Orchard

Waiting

The Fisher's Tale

Gate 10

Necromancer

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B I O

 

The Orchard


In these days of burning green,
green returning, yearning green,
the sting in the sappy vein
sweetens in my blood
the same pain
the lifting trees must feel,
now they can feel again.

My fingers, my elbows bend
to greet the sky.
And pricking in my shoulderblades
when long gray geese come winding north,
catching light on high,
that very urge to fly.

In this time of green desire,
heart-on-fire green,
rising from withered nights,
the air is blinding
to my resurrected eyes.
Lit by returning rays
life is a knife-edge,
birth is precarious; death
locked in the new bone.

A small price to pay
for the pulse
of wings, the song
of praise.
Beautiful the skulls
beneath the apple trees.
I’ve eaten apples
all my days.

 

© Li Gardiner