LEMON ORCHARD by Cork Kyle

All afternoon, the scent of lemons,
as the sun crawls along their backs.
Why bother with mystery when this nostril-light
cracks the rind and routs from hideouts of sweetness
the ghost-scent?

I smashed a lemon,
and billions of distinct particles
left in a haughty squirt.

CORK KYLE lives in Seattle, Washington, where he programs computers and writes poetry. His work has appeared in 42opus. He is the author of one collection of poetry entitled Lisa’s Toes.

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