Utu Man (70) Stolen Fruit

Sooner or later,
running their course,
the planets and stars
become worn and weary,
lose their lustre
and milk begins to pour
out of their holes.

Then, at autumn night,
gods creep into my garden,
pluck apples and pears,
the best they can find,
and take them to heaven
to replace the old planets and stars.

Despite the gods' efforts,
I always know
when they have been
in the garden:

the juiciest fruits are gone
and then there is a wondrous glow,
a maddening scent of pears and apples
as heaven hangs low.

As it happens
when you bite into a meaty
succulent fruit,
whose pulp almost
makes you moan,

on such nights heaven
oozes meaning and delight,
just for a short while, till it again
turns into a slate of black pitted stone.

Вланес, 2010

Сертификат Поэзия.ру: серия 790 № 79862 от 11.05.2010

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