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Young Adam

He delighted in the waxy skins of lemons,
Secretly scratching, sniffing, breathing in,
As his mother hurried him along,
Clutching grubby fingers.
She left him by the apricots,
To buy the chicken for dinner, stay right here!
The deep violet of the eggplants called to him,
And he could not resist.
Roaming among mountains of sweet orange
Whispering of their lush contents.
Past seas of crisp green leaf,
Punctuated by jewels of carrot, tomato, beet!
Aglow in glorious fluorescence.
He grasped the grandest shining apple,
Slyly shoving it into his sweatshirt,
Yet guilt overcame him,
He restored the gem to its rightful place.
A voice from the lights called out,
A mother is looking for her child,
He is lost in this labyrinth of foodstuffs!
Yet it could not reach him,
Too far gone in his produce paradise.



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