After Windfall
By Seth Jani

I find the earth perfectly right
In taking these things,
Drawing them close
In all their bruised demeanor,
Loving their multitudes,
Their stolen ripeness,
Finding them piecemeal
On her breast.

If we were fallen after a night
Of driving winds
I like to think she would allow
Our spotted bodies
In her warm and ordered pastures.
And that our hearts, wan as apples,
Would feed the hungry robins
With their beaks of gold.