I can’t say I arranged them that way.
I mean I did place them in the bowl,
but lazily, without intention.
Yet here they are,
a circle of plump peaches
holding high a lone avocado,
orange pink yellows
fuzzing into a watercolor cradle,
whispering in hushed tones
as they buoy their hero
through cheering crowds.
I, too, am borne aloft by softness
not of my design.
