Tuesday, September 21, 2010

In Praise of an Apple

What I owe the world
For raising me as I am:
In love,

Upon that first bump on the road
Was a man, standing, with his arms open
To embrace me, and a whole gang of men
And women,
Behind him.

For me Adam is a cyclist,
racing for peace.
With such skills,
No-one would ever yield.
He keeps on riding along the world;

And yet: An apple,
An orange,
A pomegranate!
He stops pedaling.
Why wouldn’t I?


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