A Clockwork Theory Of Orange

From the time that, what’s left of the bees
Have pollinated the blossoms
On the orchard orange trees
The orange itself has a destiny

Predetermined from the time it’s bud
Draws mineral through tree trunk
By way of it’s roots in the mud
Of course if its not, as it’s said, a dud.

One day the orange blossoming fourth
Matures and from there is set on it’s course
By way of a truck or maybe a train
To the isle of some store’s shopping lane

From here for a quarter I purchase one
All grown up and kissed by the sun
Sack up my groceries I set the orange aside
And load it all up on the bike I ride

Some how the orange gets left on the ground
A more natural course it seems to me now
For were it not for the truck the store and me
It would be on the ground to rot ‘neath its tree