The Enkindled Persimmon

The shadowy bishop at work, testing the lavas, the imploding chestnuts, the ignited acorns...

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Under the speckled canopy / Where, along the autumnal whisper / Of fair weather, I walked, / The enkindled persimmon, / And then the flaming chestnut, / The imploded acorn, fell… /.../.../ My eyes, and nose, and ears, / And tongue, and skin, in joy / Praised such fragile perfection. .../.../