among fruit trees


Evening, and a porch embraced in screen

after sister has driven us to

Grandpa’s.

Remember, those ‘soft-drinks’ and icecream

a grandma and grandpa’s house

staple treat?

We sit inside, and then out of doors

as the breeze blows cooler,

and robins hop

among fruit trees.

 

I want to run through them,

break away from the small-talk and laughter

for a bit,

and run on slightly crusty grass

over and around like a child

in dusk air

among fruit trees.

 

I want to grow an orchard.

{I’ve decided quite romantically and sweetly}.

Someday.

I know that real-fruit and soul-fruit

I crave, I love.

Remembering from the message heard in the morn

of His growing, harvest, and my planting,

not my proding,

among fruit trees.

 

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