Plum Tree

For the love of its fruit,
out of the caring for
what grows around,
out of empathy you have
for a broken bough

You bow to it, then try
to mend the damage
the wind made
the other day.

Soon you'll learn
it'll break
your back
and put you
to bed.

Eventually,
it'll break
my heart.

You'll stay
in bed
till your last day

The sun of you 
will never rise again
to walk between 
the garden shades

Next summer I'll bless
the bruises
the tree
 gives
away
for free

I'll eat from
its flesh as it drinks
from the cup

of a passing cloud



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