“This Brown Paper Bag of Peaches”
(“From Blossoms” by Li-Young Lee)
Oh words words how they topple from the tongue
such fun (like many things this tongue has done)
Simple sound saves us is what poetry teacher
From blossoms come this brown paper bag of peaches.
From a rose is a rose to that boat you row row
To Roethke I learn by going where I have to go
From the caged cry a child’s barely born breath
To Lear’s final stage the rage against death
With only twelve syllables Li-Young Lee creates
An arc from invisible to texture and taste
Poetry is prayer and I want a Pastor who preaches
From blossoms come this brown paper bag of peaches
I would like an epitaph but please pray you
No At Last He Hath Passed to be with Jesu
Mark my grave above the maggots and leeches
From blossoms come this brown paper bag of peaches
Throughout November I am writing a poem every day as part of an effort to raise funds for The Center For New Americans. If you like the poems (or even if you don’t) and would like to support this fantastic organization, please follow this link. Thanks.