a fruit full of heart-broken juices     placed on morning’s table
Cézanne tablecloth     diamond of beasts’ dreaming
the sunlight spins     moving shadows     directing the fruit’s blue face into the light-source
plunging its red face into deep darkness     its green face into mirrors
three flags covert in the spectrum     no discernible relation to any tree, ever
no moving creature near it     its existence an education
china dish, immobile     knives and forks, immobile     milk, immobile     a Sunday of the aristocracy
in that moment of enjoyment     its heart-broken juices are linked to a troupe of bears
but those bears have yet to come together     right now a thousand miles away they’re asleep under trees
dreaming of this diamond     full of unsweet, broken-hearted juices

1994