A Piquant Moment

The sunset shell appeared mace-cerise
Fading to saffron pleasantly
Screaming mustard seed sunbeams.

As it sunk gingerly
Deep into the galangal horizon,
Every cacoa tree branch waved goodbye.

A few drooping, emphatic sumac leaves fell off
The tender boughs. The pomegranate stained
And a few pimento stragglers…

But the juniper fronds held on
With finochio hopes to live forever.
Every berbere verdure should know: this will never be so.

And a cayenne Cadillac settled in a nearby lot
Consuming the sassafras aromas
Wafting in from the fennel seed breeze

The timberwolf man smoked his clove
With an epazote assumption
His paprika rays would never fade

But the cinnamon flavor in the air
Soon became a chili powder
As the achiote seconds turned to hours.

And so the sky turned pepper grey
The wasabi zest had left the day
And somewhere a safflower wilted like the leaves.

Tonka bean night punctually arrived
With sesame seeds stars in the sky
Like garam masala, brought a tear to the eye.

The dukka vines strangle the trees
With peppercorn berries still ripening
But no nutmeg grows on trees in Brooklyn.