The Plum Tree
A poem
Published in
May 19, 2021
The plum tree drooped
I watched with cautious eyes
As it fell apart
The disease spread slowly
And the petals did not fall
At first
But they would
As every petal, pink as cheeks
Ceased to be
Something died inside
Bit by bit, day by day
Until all was almost lost
Life around it seemed to go on
Did death not change life
It’s dark brown trunk
Strong, masculine, the figure of man
Lived on
Every time I crossed its path
The plum tree would captivate me
I would cry for my dead plum tree
But what would tears prove?
