Dee Allen's Poems
Looking back on it
Growing up in
I remember Grandma Lillie’s
Backyard being a virtual
Three or four peachtrees
Always stood back there,
Abundant with little round golden delectables.
Whenever Spring came,
Peaches would ripen and
Fall to the ground
Uncollected, rotted slowly.
Waste of fruit
That could’ve been
Rinsed with sink water, skinned with a knife and eaten
Or put into Grandma’s occasional desserts.
[ I was guilty of the same offence. ]
The rotten fruit
Had served a purpose:
The backyard lawn
Looked good and green
Straight into Fall, absorbing such a heavy meal.
In those days,
Organic wasn’t a grand
Supermarket selling point.
Organic was a fact of life.
With the sun’s
Organic was what
Had grown juicy and
Fresh from peachtree branches
Looking back on it.
W: Easter 2021 [ For Jessica M. Wilson-Cardenas, Kelly Leong, Carol Park, Blake More, Robert Rubino and Stewart Carswell. ]
Takes a back seat
To the fruit of Spring. Peaches.
Globular treats picked from Southern trees
[ The only Southern thing I miss ]
Heavy with juice,
That would delight taste-buds,
Spoon-blended into vanilla ice cream,
Fill oven-baked crust
Of future cobblers.
The rich orchard is
Carried in me
Bite after bite
After tantalising bite.
W: 6.11.21 [ In response to the poem Blossoms by Li-Young Lee. ]
To come play
In the tree-tops.
Copulation is The plan.
Louder than a Harley chopper—
From their union,
Eggs on leaves
Tumble down to Subterranean lairs,
Carry on parents’ cycle.
Elders are left
A squirrel’s lunch.
Anxious ones— By trillions.
W: Carnavál 2021
Silent Blue [ Dorsimbra* ]
All life began at the ocean bottoms
With the amoeba, tiny shape altered to catalyse,
Form the first fish, swimming down fathoms,
More marine denizens came, differing in size.
Eventually fish reached dry land, fins became legs, 4
as clammy amphibian or scaly reptile, 4 legs grew
as 2, sentient life split, some gained mass as dinosaurs,
others hairy primates too advanced for the ocean—
Civilisation’s by-products spoil the deep silent blue:
Spilled oil, chemical run-off, trash from cities & passing ships.
Our old aquatic connection forsaken, the fact long forgotten that
All life began at the ocean bottoms.
W: World Oceans Day 2021 *A 12-lined poem. First stanza: iambic pentametre [ A-B-A-B rhyme ], second stanza: free verse and third stanza: blank verse. First and last lines are the same. Devised by Eve Braden, Freida Dorris and Robert Simonton.