Plum Tree

Plum Tree


My life
Demeaned by others’ worldly materialism, (leaking into my mind-)
By unkept currency-

Though, I’m not so sure that my shortfalls are
A mistake

Like I am certain that lives lead solely in pursuit of that life
Are-

Please stop telling me what you have; what I don’t.
Your wealth is not the same as mine, let’s not compare
Full pockets to empty pockets

Mine are empty for they leave more room for cold hands to warm, while getting lost on frosted forest trails-
more room for pen and for pad.
Some see more worth in
Blossoming tree full of petals and foliage; to autumn tree skeletons’
You are not so wise as to claim the worth of either tree, nor the purpose or beauty of either tree; they are of equal worth with separate circumstance.

I know I am homeless, now without a heart-
Sitting below a plum tree devouring plum hearts in wake of mine gone, though through consumption there is no replacing such a loss,

I can eat and eat and eat the hearts off tree boughs, seed swallowed whole hoping for new roots to grow from me, into a new life-

Similar in look and delicate feel, but no amount of nourishing sustenance will suffice a void like this left by him.

I know to you
I may seem homeless now
With no roof to fly to

But I can’t buy another and claim it falsely for my own home,
I can’t barter soul for equity.