(Years of) The Oranges

They laid

- one on top of the other

one beside the other

like bodies in synchronised dance -

under the warming sun,

their porous skin ecstatically opened up to its arrays.

I touched the first hesitantly

its shadow momentarily cast upon my extended arm

- half expecting my palm to burn

half for the orange to melt inside it instead -

raised

and held it

steadily

unmoved

rounded by my fingers

and further exposed to the sun

resembling a well-designed light.

Observing it

- my eyes drawn

to the promise of its infinite circles -

I still recall

on the days of careless youth

the apples rolling on the floor

in anarchy

and disarray.

How apples came to bear oranges

though

I never realised.

April 2020,

Athens.

Photograph: The Oranges; 25,04.20.