issue 24 > poetry > cabral

While
             foliage unfolds
             trees turn to trees
             and day dazzles
I still cling
                  a fig
                         on a sprig of afternoon.

Till day's dust dusks
fruit rots
               then drops
to the hungry earth
without a fuss.






Also by Astrid Cabral:

Waiting Room
Sign or Prop
Bones or Stars
The Last Moment
Between Gardens
Hills and Mushrooms