Marked Special on the Supermarket shelves
suggests to me these apples will be sweet.
I fly off to the checkout with my prize,
an orchard in each tantalizing bite.
Crimson-rich with appetising scent,
sure, they’re not of export quality;
graffiti art engraved into the flesh
to certify approval by a bird.

I know those lesions. Wear my peck marks too
like songs: the whistles of a little finch,
pipe of corella, fluting of a thrush.
Pecks that made me different from the rest.
Defiant blemishes. They’re mine alone.
Click this button.

I am

not

a

clone.

Hazel Hall

 

Hazel Hall is a Canberra poet and musicologist. Her haiku, tanka and free verse has been published widely. Recent collections include Step By Step: Tai Chi Meditations with Angie Egan (Picaro Poets 2018), Moonlight over the Siding (Interactive Press 2019) and Severed Web with artist Deborah Faeyrglenn (Picaro Poets 2019).

© 2020