The following pieces are a few of the poems in my book "The Fruit of the Bone Tree"
_Ephemera_
The flowers began to die
when I cut them.
Their fate was
not immediately obvious,
given their vibrancy
on the table,
in that musty room
filled with cobwebs
and dust.
Still, to look upon those blooms
and to take in their perfume
was to have a garden,
even the Garden of Eden,
caress my senses,
if just for a short time.
***
_Ashen rubble_
A storm came
and blew
the bone tree
to rubble.
A fire came
and burned
the rubble
to ashes.
A flood came
and washed
the ashes
into the ground.
The earth remained
and shaped
the ashes
into seeds.
***
_She walked into my garden_
She walked into my garden
past the flowers
right up to the bone tree
I grew in the center.
Unlike so many others,
she wasn’t bothered
that I planted such a tree
or that I chose that spot.
She seemed quite content
with the tree’s cracked bark,
its crumbling leaves,
its desiccated fruit.
She picked its fruit.
She took a bite.
Her soft smile
told me she would stay.
