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Cider Fruit

written by: Ricky Hawthorne



Round, rusty red and hanging,
Mocking science, rendering Newton absurd
Swinging steadily in the stillness
This seed of clay, enslaving
Time and absorbing what
Others pass over

A skin, weather-raddled and
Scraped, each concrete scar, each
Bite of Eve’s teeth, etching
A lost topography,
An ancestry of gnarled barks
And inadequate limbs
Succumbing to densities they
Could not comprehend nor

Fall now and sleep…

Ricky Hawthorne

Ricky Hawthorne

MAY 2019 AUTHOR OF THE MONTH at Spillwords.com
Short listed for the Bridport Poetry Prize 2015
Graduate of Warwick University
Triple honors in Literature, Theater and Film
Ricky Hawthorne

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