Projects: 2017 / 2016 / 2014 / 2013 / 2012

VRL Thonger

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I'll write a poem every day, might be tiny but it'll be complete.


We spot a laden branch hanging over the pavement.

You twist one round fruit off its stalk – warm, blemished

the colour less dazzling in closeup. Sweet juice stickies

our hands. You ask which came first, the fruit or the colour

I say the English name derives from the Spanish naranja, the fruit.

Before then there was no word for the colour yellow-red

ġeolurēad in Old English. Karaka's the colour here you say,

the fruit is orangi so that's clear although karaka's also the name

of a native tree whose karaka-coloured berries are toxic

unless fully ripe/roasted. Kereru (wood pigeons) love them.

I try to remember the new words and how far

the orange's journey from Malaysia to China

to Turkey and Spain, to northern Europe

the Americas then halfway around the world again.

Day 94 Orangins sonnet

Almost full circle.