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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

Georgia Peaches


I am going to walk away
from a street
that suddenly confines me to
a road that throws dust in the air!
I’m going to sit on green grass
where no one needs a chair,
the grass like a sea meadow.
Like the heart when it thinks of poetry.

Everything fresh as a cool morning.
That’s where I’m going
to fill a bowl with peaches,
and kiss each one
before I chew it up.
When the dish is empty
I’ll fill it again,
and leave it behind
for someone to see and taste,
to change them forever.

And I’ll laugh,
more like a huh,
as if I played a joke
that was meant to be lovely.
Then I’ll go back
to where I was
and put on a tuxedo,
and deport my manners like a manicure,
and say hello to ladies
that have the telltale blush of peaches
on their cheeks,
and the color of cherries
on their mouths.

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