Defenders of Faith
Purple and gold heads bowed
out of respect for gravity
the bunch grasses stand close together
move to earth’s breath
and listen to sighs
murmured by the olive tree’s
pale green desire
Not this year but perhaps next
we will press from her
fruit’s flesh the virgin promise
of light and delight
but for now just look
see how she spreads her leaves
suggesting the sun touch
where her branches fork
She is cultivated here
but left to her own devices
she grows wild and spills
her seed on the ground
inviting voles and jays to take
and disperse her blessing
Guarionex
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