Cornucopia
by James Keller


1/8/2010

An orange tree is my latest muse.
I look at it when it occasionally rains.
It is one way of getting good news,
I look at it before I draw the curtains,
I look at it in the frequent sunlight,
I look at it after opening the curtains,
I look at as my silent friend.

Go now and spread the fable
of generosity on the table
under the old orange tree.

My latest secret god is growing corn,
I look at it planted on the curbside.
It is one way of feeling less worn,
I look at it as a harvested bride,
I look at it tenderly at dusk,
I look at it as man with nothing to hide,
I look at it as a benison.

Go now and reap the ripe corn
of plenitude as one reborn
nearby the old orange tree.