<html><head><meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=us-ascii"></head><body style="word-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space;" class=""><div dir="auto" style="word-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space;" class="">From Blossoms<div class=""><br class=""></div><div class=""><div class="">From blossoms comes</div><div class="">this brown paper bag of peaches</div><div class="">we bought from the boy</div><div class="">at the bend in the road where we turned toward</div><div class="">signs painted *Peaches* .</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">From laden boughs, from hands,</div><div class="">from sweet fellowship in the bins,</div><div class="">comes nectar at the roadside, succulent</div><div class="">peaches we devour, dusty skin and all,</div><div class="">comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">O, to take what we love inside,</div><div class="">to carry within us an orchard, to eat</div><div class="">not only the skin, but the shade,</div><div class="">not only the sugar, but the days, to hold</div><div class="">the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into</div><div class="">the round jubilance of peach.</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">There are days we live</div><div class="">as if death were nowhere</div><div class="">in the background; from joy</div><div class="">to joy to joy, from wing to wing,</div><div class="">from blossom to blossom to</div><div class="">impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class=""><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>- Li-Young Lee</div></div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class=""><img apple-inline="yes" id="C47479EC-C4A7-472E-9303-E3620E3E7CFF" src="cid:8104A94A-02A3-4DC4-A32E-8DC50C33404F" class=""></div></div></body></html>