Peaches and Poetry
A shattered stone shack,
bloodstained shoes on a rock
mark what is buried beneath -
love poems and photos of families,
a book recording the safe delivery
of plums and peaches, pages
scorched and torn from its spine.
Fruits had no time to ponder
the notion of leaving the tree
or the prospect of staying to face
the juicer and the smoking truth.
All around, trees hang shredded,
blood blending with puréed peach
on the ground, an orgy for wasps.
~Coral~~
4 comments:
Hi dear Coral!
Do you know that this marvellous poem is what a fantastic one in my language?
I have translated this summer-lirical poem to Hungarian language.
Best Wishes,
Gyula
Hi, Gyula,
Thank you for your continued support during this impossible time for me. Thank you for your generous comments.
This poem is about the madness and hatred of war and its effects on innocent lives. Every life has value and rebels from every mad quarter continue their resistance against the advice of the mediators in this conflict.
Good wishes
Coral
Your flowers and pictures are very beautiful.
www.bionicbuddha.com
This poem is beautiful and disturbing at the same time...
-- FreeCyprus Hellenic Reporter
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