There is a Still Life in the Old Dog Yet
An old one I dug up
If artists are short of subject
they might paint still life.
If I were to write such a thing
I’d have plenty of oranges.
Some sweet, some sour but
all illuminated by the light of
Mediterranean sunrise inside
a powder-blue Wedgwood bowl
and plump non-standard apples
brushed with strokes of green
and cerise over yellow gold.
Grapes of wrath have no place.
Juicy bunches of Pino-Noir and
Tempranillo poured over apples
and oranges, dripping onto the
surface of an old Oak table to add
solid friendship and good taste.
A banana or two for an exotic feel,
but no Mangoes or Papayas,
they’re a little too rich for this display
and certainly no game corpses leaking
blood and shedding feathers or fur
making a cruel mockery of life.