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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