Pause for Trees
A large cherry tree grew tall beside my grandfather's house. The branches were too high to climb, but when the cherries were ripe I was able to find some on the ground. The juice stained my mouth and fingers and was oh so sweet. This poem brought back fond memories. Do you have a special tree in your life?
Green Pear Tree in September
On a hill overlooking the Rock River
my father's pear tree shimmers,
in perfect peace,
covered with hundreds of ripe pears
with pert tops, plump bottoms,
and long curved leaves.
Until the green-haloed tree
rose up and sang hello,
I had forgotten...
He planted it twelve years ago,
when he was seventy-three,
so that in September
he could stroll down
with the sound of the crickets
rising and falling around him,
and stand, naked to the waist,
slightly bent, sucking juice
from a ripe pear.
"Green Pear Tree in September" by Freya Manfred, from My Only Home. © Red Dragonfly Press, 2003.