Still Life With Pears

Bored Panda

Pears morph into
astringent stones
on the bare tree.

The bitter taste
of winter’s dying.

Not quite death,
but a flavor
that foretells it.

Branches are
outstretched arms
of emptiness.

Green has gone,
but green memory
remembers.

These stones remain,
summer’s cemetery,
barren in the rain.

Reminders that
spring will
return again.