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"DISORGANIZED RESISTENCE TO TEMPTATION"



He dangles, just out of reach, like my neighbors ripe oranges

ripe oranges above an eight foot wall in my yard.

The green ones are easy to reach. They trail down

the wall to where I can grab them,If I am nimble.


Those big navels above my head, bobbing beyond where I can leap,

where I can leap tantalize me. I can almost taste

how sweet, not tart, their juice will be, their pulp

not stringy but wholly edible; their white inner skin

begs for gnawing all the way to the orange outer peel.


Those globes of orange's glory call out for

a ladder to be set up in the middle of the night.

Do I dare? What if my neighbor caught me on it?


Have been collecting green ones. Small puny items

that line my window sill and ripen too slowly for

more than refreshing my garbage disposal. They

all look alike for some reason, even when turned

every morning to face a new day's sun. My turning

and touching does not fatten them up like those

ripening on those tall trees. They do not grow any

larger nor whet my appetite toward biting into one.


His peers are like that, too available and too green

they waste my time with all that turning and slow

ripening. They are only suitable for sweetening the

smell in the disposal. I want the big ones at the top

of the tree. The ones that challenge me to fly up to

where they move from side to side and do not drop

until they are ready and I am able to gather them

into my apron until it sags from too many all at once.


I would not alienate my neighbor, but the urge to

mount the ladder is so great. If the moon were not

full and ready to shine on me stealing her oranges,

then maybe I would just go for it. All that dangling

makes me dangerous. The full moon does not help

Maybe I could cast some sort of spell upon them?

Something to coax them down before their time?

Where is that book that shows how this is done?

Would it work on those navels and on that man?


Would they drop willingly into my lap knowing I

will tear them open and eat them while the others

watch and mourn their passing into my great maw?

Or will they resist my charm and stay fastened to

branches beyond my reach, beyond my grasp and

beyond my willingess to risk being caught stealing

by my neighbor? Maybe I'd better wait until they are

ready to fall down for my pleasure. Maybe I,

should make do with greens ones for the present.


Perhaps it is time to stay out of that yard, where

they dangle, as he does, just out of my reach. It

may be time to set fire to that ladder, too. Such

a temptation it has become. I will go find a match




By

Jeanne Kahn

15 December 1997




Jeanne earned summa cum laude degrees in business and management, served as first woman chapter president of an accounting association, broke ground in several spheres of influence over time, then decided to learn to write by writing. Nearly one hundred poems later, she continues to rescue cats with her beloved spouse David.




For comments to the writer mail to:JEANNEK@delphi.com

Visit Jeanne's website@:http://members.delphi.com/jeannek

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Moondance: Celebrating Creative Women

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