<\/p>\n
Tomatoes on window sills, Tomatoes on window sills, a ridge that ripens red. Behind the pane firm fruit, sun blushing the hills. What calls me from my perch on the porch to kick up piles of leaves, peel parchment bark off this birch, and then stride down where this grove tilts to the rocky shore which holds the … <\/p>\n
\n<\/span>a ridge that ripens red.
\n<\/span>Behind the pane firm fruit,
\n<\/span>sun blushing the hills.
\nWhat calls me from my perch
\n<\/span>on the porch to kick up piles
\n<\/span>of leaves, peel parchment
\n<\/span>bark off this birch, and then
\nstride down where this grove
\n<\/span>tilts to the rocky shore
\n<\/span>which holds the lake, which
\n<\/span>holds the hills in opal
\n<\/span>haze, water I\u2019ve slept
\n<\/span>beside like a woman?
\nWhen it turns to winter ice,
\n<\/span>I shall take my leave.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"