how red can a cherry get
when drunk with sunlight?
just enough to kiss the tree goodbye
and roll down to feel
earth’s asperities.
there
the cherry spills its blood
all over the (maybe) ignorant rocks,
(i wonder) –
teaching them the poetry of redness,
and the rocks
in exchange
peel the cherry’s sacrificial skin
and dig within its flesh
for the pip.
would you recognize the ghost of the flower
when watching altogether
the bones of the cherry
among those of the rocks?

© Liliana Negoi

4 thoughts on “purple fates

  1. The poetry of redness, the poetry of mortality and change, right here in full sunlight; I like the way this brings Death out of shadow into the light. At least, that’s what it feels like to me. Thanks!

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