Ruby29 October 2020
Young peaches rain on a bruised roof,
chafed by young brushing winds
The peaches, mimic the sky on its skin –
splatter of red – a sudden brown
The winds run to the baton of an unseen conductor
a colossal orchestra – to the marmalade orange afternoon of Giverny
They run to the dense web of leaves caught
The leaves applaud as the winds are tamed
roof falls cool, peaches fall
A small mob of wind
they call upon a ruthless storm, that breaks the damn tree.
Do you want to be?
the defeated tree
the earnest winds
the falling peaches
the hurting roof…
I would rather by
Just this evening sky of Giverny.
This poem is inspired by the painting ‘Springtime At Giverny’ by Claude Oscar Monet.