Bashful rays seep through the fragrant petals of freshly blooming buds weeping branches hang heavy with ripened fleshy fruits yearning to be plucked from their bearer’s arms the ephemeral light pooling over boundless fields as the hatching twilight cocoons the sky the fleeting summer solstice ashes into a jaded umber dusk so come. feast. while the belly of the harvest is full and the horizon is bleak. -Raylene Naidoo