Once was an orchard
this
paddock
loam retted
and fruit friable
dig down
into an earth
which once brought forth
such sweet succulence
only tangled rootlets remain
and dropped seed stones
three bites discarded
and the strong spirit of fermentation
we should all be buried
in such steeped and stalky soil
indulging in surfeit
open mouthed to the fallen flesh
stewing in our own juice
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