Brian H. Appleton

Once I ate the sweet fruit from the Garden of loves’ delight
The scent of pink jasmine descending on me thru the night

Now the weeds thrive on neglect and grow where once my beloved’s smiles sustained the light

A few tiny dessicated black figs cling to the bare broken branches hiding the place of long lost joy

Once they were round and firm to the touch and dripped white milky sap if you plucked them from their stems

How long have I sat here growing old, waiting for the return of spring…Persephone come back…uproot me from the ground

by Rasool