Fertile Crescent
by Mark Irwin

An infant cries
smiles laughs all in
an hour twenty five years
later he steps on a land
mine in Fallujah not
far from an apricot tree yet
far from the one in Kansas
where as a boy he gathered
them in his shirt to give
to his mother who always
said his skin was as smooth as apricots
in August thirsty bees
work their orange
flesh to pulp.

Copyright © 2007 - Mark Irwin
Published: 3/15/07   ·  Author's Page   ·  Next Poem