By the Naked Pear Tree

by Michael Brimbau

First published in November/December, 2008, Volume 5, Issue 4, The Hatchet: Journal of Lizzie Borden Studies.

I watch tears of fruit

swing by the skin

how easy life ends

with no forgiveness of sin

ripe without pigment

with life’s sweetness shaved thin.

Take my seat by the barn

my back rubs the wall

bleeding chips of red paint

on my shoulder they fall

with a fury and wrath

I can no longer forestall.

Pears tumble to earth

and pepper the ground

19 do I count

with laughter well found

while she falls on her face

without making a sound.

On a hot August day

I wax with disdain

awaiting the scythe

where 10 pears remain

to rot on the vine

with my anguish and pain.

With a covet for life

I wish them to pay

thus, Pear after Pear

drop where they lay

I brush clean my shoulder

the last Pear falls away

by the naked pear tree

I no longer need stay.