oblong and plump,
they flaunt
their perfection of dimples,
too many to count
(their little sisters
in the basket beside them
limegreen with envy)
they glow in the language of
sunflowers, daffodils, marigolds,
so confident in their yellow,
my plate paling awkwardly
as it tries, in vain
to contain them.
Jon Bohrn (1999)



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lemon china