The breeze is chilly,
sky a polished azure,
melted-butter primroses
peep between my roots,
a metaphor
ripe for plucking.
Unlike me,
a wizened plum tree
who should be in her prime,
bearing scented blossom
and sweet fruit,
time after time.
I stand in shadows
of resilient
birches and willows,
slender branches
bursting
with bud and leaf.
Last summer,
the few small
fruits I bore
were rotten
to the core,
busy with wasps.
It’s spring again,
no Easter
bonnet for me,
no blossom
on this sickly tree –
I hide my shame with ivy leaves.
Kim M. Russell, 2017
My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Speaking for Spring’s Stillborn Sprouts
Magaly says that some weeks ago, people were absolutely delighted about the freakishly warm weather and she smiled at the feeling of spring in the middle of winter. But after speaking to a few friends who grow fruit trees, her smiles vanished. They are worried about the effects the unseasonably warm weather will have on their trees.
Magaly has been wondering what the barren plants might be feeling, who would be on the receiving end of their sense of loss and outrage, what they might say if they could speak to us, which is why she has invited us to write a new poem from the point of view of a grieving plant whose sprouts were just killed as a result of climate change.
Loved the perspective you brought in with the poem Kim, on how the barren tree might be feeling.
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Hi Somali! How are you? I don’t see you so much on WordPress these days. Thank you so much for reading and commenting.
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Hello Kim, So nice to hear from you. I am good. Yes, I am not much on WordPress these days. Somehow, my mind is too preoccupied and I am not able to manage to write, though I know I must try to write at least one post per week. Have a nice Monday, and a lovely week ahead. 🙂
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You too, Somali! 🙂
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Nothing sadder than a barren fruit tree. You expressed the emotion very well… fruitlessness.
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Thanks Kerry – that’s I feel on off-days:|
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There is so much sadness in the tone–so much reality. The last stanza brought tears to my eyes. I want to hug your plum tree.
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I’m sure she’d love that!
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There is envy acting as a shield for the profound sadness at not being part of the spring celebrations.
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The only fruit tree in the garden with no blossom!
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Such a beautiful-dark story of Resistance and Hope. 🌹
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My poor plum tree says thank you!
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No Easter bonnet for me is such a powerful line to let loose in this poem…carries such deep sadness, exclusion and longing with it.
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My poor plum is right next to a quince that does blossom. I feel for her.
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Poor plum 😦
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Oh, that last stanza is just wonderful, Kim.
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Thank you, De!
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This is soo powerful.. the emotions here are both tender and tangible. Beautifully executed.
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Thank you, Sanaa!
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I can feel the tree’s shame at not doing as she is intended to do. But the shame is all humankind’s. Loved this poem.
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Thank you, Sherry!
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What a wonderful point of view.. so much more than a plum tree really.
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Trees are wonderful! How about a library of trees? A tree librarian? Or a prompt called ‘The Secret Life of Trees’?
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Yes, as others have said too, you have caught the sadness. I loved all the sensual garden imagery.
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Thank you, Rosemary!
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Even a tree can feel the pain of barren… I so love your personification of the plum.
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Thank you, Susie!
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