year of rest

The plum tree, puny though in full flush
of summer, all its neighbors lush in sun-glow.
Limp-leaved, drab. Last year—remember?—
its branches heavy-laden, juicy, buzzing,
a jewel among backyards, good provider
of jam. Winter, amber in promise. But now—
Rest, my dear. Dream away
these sunny days, rebuilding your strength.
Hold this green and gold reaching from your roots,
an encouragement.

17 thoughts on “year of rest”

  1. This is gorgeous. I love to read about your trees. Our plum is looking pretty good this year, actually. I like the fact that I can look at my tree and read about your tree. It makes me feel a connection across the distance. And your language in this is so lush and fertile.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Do trees dream, I wonder? Perhaps a nightmare robbed its ability to fruit. Whisper kind thoughts to its leaves and stroke its branches. Perhaps peace will strengthen it for next year’s harvest.

    Enchanting and inspirational prose.

    Liked by 1 person

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