Fallen pohutukawa flowers
Saffron on the fried earth.
The sun is the egg
a yellow circumference…
A pinch of black seed
and a tablespoon of light
rain.
The lemons fall from the tree
with a sprinkle of parsley…
Nature’s blossom weaves a
fabric
Together like whitebait
patties…
Cooking slowly
The wind whisks together
All summer day long…
Turning once white/golden
when the sun is beaten and left to run
when the sun is beaten and left to run
too late in the scorching
heat.
Flipped over underneath the
folds
The crimson blossom burns
towards the end of season…
