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Eastern Plums

“…in His law doth he meditate day and night”

“For the Lord knoweth the way of the righteous”

-Psalm I


I’m not floating in the river;

I’m not afloat.

I am the hanging branch that dips down

to feel the passing currents.

The water feeds my trunk that

I’m so far from now,

and the fruits I adore are abundant.

They topple and fall;

rot on the ground and I must watch.

I dunk the ripe ones in the river

to wash them away,

because though I can’t myself,

rooted in the soil,

I can feel pleasantly

knowing that the spawn of my labor

will drift away

to wherever it is that rivers drift.

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