It might deceive.
Or like a cruel
window, live its life
unopened,
offering a view
yet reserving the taste
for another’s
tongue, ignoring
even the wind.
The roots, as always, look down.
This first appeared in Ijagun Poetry Journal in December 2013, and is also included in my micro-chapbook, You Break What Falls, available for download from the Origami Poems Project: http://www.origamipoems.com/poets/236-robert-okaji
It requires brutal work before it gives up its sweetness. Nicely done!
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Indeed. Thank you.
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Ours bloomed some time between 1999 and 2004 and that was after it was moved from one yard location to another. It was a gorgeous thing 🙂
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We have a zillion of them. I used to love them. Now they’re annoying. 🙂
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So very original. I really like this.
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Thank you, Sherrie.
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Always the unusual slant on common, everyday subjects. Reminds me of R. Frost in some ways. Not Robert Frost…Reuben. You wouldn’t know him. 🙂
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Reuben? The frozen sandwich on the stick guy? There’s nothing quite like sauerkraut ice!
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HAHAHA! I should know better than to word-joust with my Austin friend! But you and I were both mistaken. The sauerkraut guy was Reinhart, third nephew-in-law, one and a half times removed to/from Reuben. At least I think that’s right!
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Oh, my mistake.
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Think nothing of it. I don’t think much of it myself! 🙂
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I like particularly how the final sentence anchors the poem.
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Authentic. Very nice.
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Thank you, Alisha. Much appreciated.
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