This poem was inspired by an image germinated in conjunction with two other Toledo poets at last night’s “Uncloistered” poetry reading, Pella Felton (birds as poems) and Kerry Jensen Trautman (peach pits thrown onto side of road). As usual, I suspect, a trifecta of Toledo poets can beat the four hoarseman of the apocalypse any day of the weak…
The Pits
Awe left
Of the fruit
Of life
Is the pits
Caste in a fallow feeled
As sow much garbage
Still
Fate has aweigh
Much like you
Long a go
Ceded too
Forgotten recesses
How ever refuse
Miss taken as heir
Breathlessly portending
In parent idleness
As won must
Merge with the wrest
Seamingly in conceivable
Varily sum how germ innate
Soully to root
Knot in sympathy fore sum devil
Abut a symphony of generations
Gone be for you
In countering
The only passing
Of time
And who peers on the seeing
Creatures farmerly known
As birds singing
Poems tweeting
In that abiding peachy nature
A little peace of haven
A mother’s kind nest
Baring fruits beyond recognition
“There was a rogue peach tree on aside of a rode which know won new wear came from, and poems, formerly known as birds, tweet.” –Anonymous
