Three Cucumbers
My cucumbers lie on the waiting earth
hiding under their camouflage of leaves
so ingeniously it's not till late summer
one shows up bloated as a blimp, orange, inedible,
in a word useless,
that I pluck it and cast it away.
* * *
Like that young Japanese soldier,
commanded to defend an insignificant tropical island.
No one told him the War was over.
He finds a cave, moves in with his stuff, survives on bananas and raw fish,
patrols his jungle every day
and worships his spirits each night.
No seasons to keep count of the years.
Until one day a seaplane taxis into the lagoon
and a poor, foolish, useless old man
takes leave of his life
and receives a hero's welcome back home.
* * *
Like this poetry-writing business:
locked in a room with a flat-screen monitor,
days and a life of nothing else,
until a useless old man emerges
with blinking eyes and an illegible smile
to sunlight and his fellow beings again.
High stakes grammar:
. . . hiding under their camouflage of leaves
*so* ingeniously [that] it's not till late summer
one shows up bloated as a blimp, [so] orange, inedible,
in a word useless,
*that* I pluck it and cast it away.
Relying on one "so" and one "that" each to do the work of two is a big ask. I hope you took them both out for a good meal, or at least a cocktail.
(Great metaphors.)