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.