The Satsuma is starting to go green,

untouched it has gone sour, the sweetness

sucked dry and stale,

I really wanted to taste this Orange fruit

but unlike the plums it held no thought

of ripeness in my mind;

the Christmas stocking,

oversized woollen sock

held many a delight, the Corgi toy car,

a cracker bound in small explosive,

yet every year the Satsuma would poke

its way out of the top of the stocking

and go mouldy before my eyes, even on the coldest

Christmas Day.