Incidental planet, Biblical
metonym for bitterness,
a green anti-fruit filled with air
in citrus-like sections
& harboring a larva at its core.
The oak’s response to a bit
of foreign matter is not
unlike the oyster’s: wall it off
inside a solid tear-drop.
Come fall, it turns red
but doesn’t rot, lapsing instead
into tough brown paper,
a manuscript in the round
that whelps a wasp.
I love the unexpected movement in this, in towards the question and out again and then off with the wasp.
I always learn something from your poems Dave!
Thanks, Jean and Robbi. I’m glad you guys found something to like in this — I wasn’t sure I did.