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A Love's Comparison
Oh, let it rot!
Who's going to want it now,
In that condition?
It was once a delicacy
But look- it's spoiled!
We should get rid of it
As soon as possible
Throw it away
Far, far away
Bury it if you can...
The traces will no linger
More than a few days or hours...
We will replace it easily
At the super-market...
Each season
Brings a new variety
Freshly harvested crops
Rosy with sunshine
Waiting their turn...
COPY WRITE©2009
poem
by
Romeo Della Valle
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