Unripe thoughts
June 27, 1984
They must have planned Their fierce campaign, those birds
That pecked and knocked The apples till they dropped,
Still white-pipped, green And full of acid juice.
Defenceless weights, We had to pick them then,
A weak retreat, A human subterfuge
To cosset them Like unripe thoughts, store them
In darkness, cool, Each a wrapped future hope.