... poetry ...

Fruit to bear.

You bring me, heartspent and
Ravenous, to the very brink
The vibrato in the air is bent in
Rain shapes bouncing atop
Steamy South Georgia backroads

She is sweltering, dancing in a white
Cotton dress, barefoot, kicking red
Clouds of red clay into tiny atmospheres
Around the knees. Gawky girlish
Delight, I am a vine grown too late in your shadows

With fruit to bear, and none to spare.


12 thoughts on “Fruit to bear.

  1. In 2005 my wife and I lost our daughter, Kellan, who only lived for four days.

    anyways, i dream about her all the time. and in my dreams, she is always older, always dressed in a white dress, and always…always barefoot. the second stanza is definitely full of Kellan. she is also usually dancing…or riding a horse. i love the thoughts of her dancing barefoot in some summertime Georgia red clay. that image…gives me great peace.

  2. I was caught up in “The vibrato in the air is bent in/
    Rain shapes” and then I read your story.

    The whole thing just coalesced.


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