.
the persimmon tree was shedding leaves
exposing its fruits to ripen
in the cold
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this new series consisting of a number of microstories is dedicated to a dear friend who's got a thousand and one heads but only one heart... a heart as vast as the sky... timmy, thanks for being such a great friend to all of us...
Thanks, human being. You made a memory go for me; a few years ago, the neighbour's never-picked, ancient apple, leaves gone and arms bent heavy under many bright red fruit in December snow: the origin of Christmas balls.
ReplyDeleteMore crow, more crow!
PG
and so unfolds, the transition of nature
ReplyDeletedear Old Peter... such a great memory... yes they look as if they are celebrating something... a change or a transition as Deli beautifully put it...thanks for sharing it...
ReplyDeleteDeli...been a while...so glad you're back... thanks for finding the crow... :)
lovely story or poem: I see the word "persimmon" and am uplifted.
ReplyDeleteyes, kathleen... it's such a lovely word and fruit...
ReplyDeletethanks also for your lovely words...