The Unexpected Lemon
written by: Christian Ward
It appeared overnight
as if a lemon tree
had been growing underground,
its trilobite top peeking
like a curious mole unsure
of its coordinates. The air
around it yellow opal, almost
mustard. It sat expecting reverence,
but the snails left a Scaletrix
track of gossamer light far from it.
Pigeons scattered. Not even the cats
would investigate. What gift might do this?
Perhaps the rain will hack at it
like a determined miner, show us
the pale core of faith as we genuflect
in our sleep, we excrete the acidity of our disbelief.
Christian Ward is a UK based writer who has been extensively published online and in print.
Latest posts by Christian Ward (see all)
- The Unexpected Lemon - October 3, 2025
- At Seven and a Half Charlwood Street - February 16, 2025
- Fixed Points of Interest - December 4, 2024
