In viewing timeless farms
I’ve longed to suc-u-late
A branching glowing vine
The frosted baby fruit

And now here placed before me
The children of the fruit
In sun baked whole machinery
A raisin now is born
A slowly dying shriveled fruit
In all its young maturity
Now dead to my obscurity
Between my frothing teeth
I taste the salty sweetness
My mouth now salivating
Is this the mother fruit
Is this the farm fresh juice

To me
This is my youth
A shrunken time
Of sea shore sweetness
Now dead to my maturity