By Jordan Kwong
An orange hangs heavy, a gleaming prize,
Shiny and vibrant, it captures all eyes.
A squirrel seizes it, or perhaps a rat,
But leaves it behind, half-eaten and flat.
The fruit decays, it softens and reeks,
Its flesh devoured, untouched for weeks.
Yet beneath the earth, a seed finds its way,
A sprout emerges, greeting the day.
From endings once hopeless, new life will come,
It is Earth’s endless cycle, and it has just begun.
