Shiny,   glossy,   scented   leaves,
limbs reaching for the sun,
in a row along the stream banks
one beside the other.
summer has passed its frenzy and
the winds are cooling off.
Mid-winter my twigs are covered
in clusters of glossy white fruit
ghostly shining in the moonlight
for that certain fruitbat
that is no more
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Copyright:   2005. John and Mary King.
All photos by John R King. All verses by John R King. This website created by Mary King.
Unauthorized use will be fluidly cursed.