FRUIT

Standard

The trees I thought had been destroyed
Are growing back again
The fruit’s already on them
And this: it’s really strange

It swings as it has swung before
And comes in black-brown tones
Their hanging place grows taller;
Their seeds already sown.

The trees they often come in blue
With weapons as the noose
For fruit still swings on Coplar trees
And drips with human juice.image

 

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