24 The luminous cherries are ripe again

24                       

 

 

The luminous cherries are ripe again,

 

carmine stars in a leaf-green sky,

 

Beaks burgeon where our moths had been.

 

Our arms grow feathery and fly.

 

 

 

Though witches lurk to scold or chase

 

us, perching, we darken that leafy space,

 

spit pits all morning, grow dissolute,

 

feasting like blackbirds on the tart fruit.