North of the Highway


Full Beaver Moon, early November
and the ditch persimmons shine like
orange lanterns above the packs of
coon and opossum, plink and roll
from the curved shell of the armadillo
scenting the sumac leaves, the musky swale.

The bare limbs hold them like small selves:
a million bulging eyed kinkajous
below their curled brown collars.

By Pat Anthony

orhange fruit on bare branches of persimmon tree


To read more of Pat Anthony’s poems please visit middlecreekcurrents.

Photo by Sergio Delle Vedove

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