The oranges line up in rows
wearing their little green leaves
like designer hats
on their heads.
One by one
you throw them
out into the snow.
“What are you doing? ”
I gasp.
“The orange becomes more orange
against the snow! ”
“I like to sit
& see them...become so! ”
So, we sit & look at orange
become more orange
glorious time bombs
of colour
glowing intensely
exploding inside us
(the tang of them on the tongue of the mind)
as yet more snow
...falling.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What a vivid word picture this is, of the oranges against the white snow! Awesome memory!