from Gene’s Notebook

“Go shake the peach tree. There’s one more up high,
and I can’t reach it.”

I go outside, shake the branch and leaf-thick tree,
and the last peach falls to cracked earth and rotted (they ripen fast) peaches.

I pick up the fuzzy oval, bump into a branch, go inside, give it to her and she bites into its pink flesh.

No one shakes the fiery orange leaves off the poincianas; they simply fall to coal black streets and
brown and green yards ….

Eugene “Gene” Novogrodsky
June 23, 2008