Tasty Fruits Poem by Maria Barbara Korynt

September. apples are falling out of basket.
and the pears are lightly hard,
but they are seen.

you are bustling about nimbly between trees...
in a minute, you are sweeping my hair aside,
with fingers, and

are holding my face into hands, and looking me
in the eyes, you are saying, that you are
holding the sweetest fruit...

and I very softly, that you are charming.
and I am pleased because...
I am with you.