The olives on the trees are not quite ripe
And the grapes are bitter.
I am impatient.
This does not discourage the
Sky hawks.
They are too busy staying alive;
Swooping and gliding in the air as they
Ingest sustenance to
Live;
Another day
To
Fly.
Come now,
Take my hand.
Let us sit under the lemon trees
In my uncles backyard.
Under the branches which bare fruit with
A bright yellow rind,
Those that beckon us to partake of
Bitterness.
Instead we will delight in the color.
Instead we will take comfort in the silence
Between us and observe fruit and
Life
For a while.
Chole Into Diamonds 