Dane Leimbach

A Peach for Saraswati

You know I know
You chipped through the oak boards to peek,
Making your finger nails bleed.
You tasted them, telling yourself
The flavor was earth and
River soaked leaves.
I was on the other side
Near the oak fence,
Near the peach tree.
You leaped
Into my old man’s garden
With a song book
Between your teeth,
And mumbled a song sweet
While taking a peach.