Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, FRUIT, by RUTH BEITTEL



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FRUIT, by            
First Line: Barren branches blackly etched
Last Line: Mine be fruit of stars!


Barren branches blackly etched
Against a henna sky,
Boughs which hold a fruit most rare
Such as none can buy.

Brilliant Venus tarries there
Gracing ancient scars,
Let others raise their Jonathans,
Mine be fruit of stars!





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