Orchard 

Dee Allen

 

Looking back on it 

 

Growing up in 

The South, 

That is, 

 

I remember Grandma Lillie’s Backyard being a virtual Fruit orchard. 

 

Three or four peach trees 

Always stood back there, 

Abundant with little round golden delectables. 

 

Whenever Spring came, 

Peaches would ripen and 

Fall to the ground 

 

Uncollected, rotted slowly. 

Sad, neglectful 

Waste of fruit 

 

That could’ve been 

Rinsed with sink water, skinned with a knife and eaten or put into Grandma’s occasional desserts. 

 

[I was guilty of the same offence.] 

 

At least 

The rotten fruit 

Had served a purpose: 

 

The backyard lawn 

Looked good and green 

Straight into Fall, absorbing such a heavy meal. 

 

In those days, 

Organic wasn’t a grand 

Supermarket selling point. 

 

Organic was a fact of life. 

With the sun’s 

Glowing assistance, 

 

Organic was what 

Had grown juicy and 

Fresh from peachtree branches 

 

Looking back on it.


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Dee Allen is an African-Italian performance poet based in Oakland, California U.S.A. Active on creative writing & the Spoken Word scene since the early 1990s. Author of 5 books [Boneyard, Unwritten Law, Stormwater and Skeletal Black, all from POOR Press, and from Conviction 2 Change Publishing, Elohi Unitsi] and 40 anthology appearances [ including 2020: The Year That Changed America, Geography Is Irrelevant from York, England's Stairwell Books, Five Words: Volume XIV from West Cork, Ireland's O' Bheal, I Can't Breathe from Kenya-based Kistrech Theatre International, Boundless from Flower Song Press--created in connection with the 2021 Rio Grande Valley International Poetry Festival--and coming soon, Law And Poetry from the American Bar Association ] under his figurative belt so far.

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