I Fall in Love with a Tree Everywhere I Go 

When I shut my eyes all I see is the sky hung with oranges
like a dozen orange golf balls;
the tree itself on display like a circus animal.

I am where the palm trees rise and fall on the horizon;
where the scent of orange trees gather pace in the air;
where my skin, my hair take on the spirit of citrus.

I pluck an orange tree blossom and it parts in my hand,
each petal driving its scent through me like the strong perfume
of the women of my childhood.

The belly of the orange tree is a play of light and shade.
The leaves flicker like cats’ eyes.
The oranges move imperceptibly dark then bright,

dark then bright. I stand beneath the tree so long
the oranges have become part of the sky
and the tree itself conducts me into another world.



Marion McCready lives in Dunoon, Argyll. She has won a Scottish Book Trust New Writers Award and the Melita Hume Poetry Prize. She is the author of two poetry collections – Tree Language (Eyewear Publishing, 2014) and Madame Ecosse (2017). Blog – http://sorlily.blogspot.com/