Persimmon

Most important is the time
you visit. Impatient,

and the firm, green orb is wicked.
Sour is the mouth.

Wait a while to witness.
Turn on your head and see

the small golden fruit range
to the sky among green leaves

and bitterness.
But do not linger.

Or else bare feet
will slide upon the pungent

fallen food of bee and yellowjacket.
Come back later. Winter clears

the ground. Watch the bared
seeds. They are little eyes in the slow

moving water of earth.
Held tight are clothes

buttoned by those seeds.

Copyright © 2006 John Bensko All rights reserved
from Chelsea
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission