Peaches in the summer,
Apples in the fall,
If I can’t have you all the time
Then I’ll have none at all.

Gillian Welch, folk singer. Though the song is probably older – soldier’s joy (which was morphine, in the civil war)

I notice that I have just finished the last of the fresh peaches I bought when crossing the mountains a couple of weeks ago. The trees continue to turn.

Yesterday, on my way through the park, there were suddenly in front of me two that were almost completely bare. Skeletons showing.

Something about those skeletons ripped right into my heart and I burst into tears.

There’s no accounting for what breaks your heart open, is there? It seems all you have to do is pay attention.

This entry was posted on Thursday, October 16th, 2008 at 8:51 am and is filed under Deep Thoughts, Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.