Standing at the kitchen window leaving a message for my married lover, I admire the Asian pear just outside.
Its limbs stretch across the walk,
gifting soft white blossoms from itself every spring.
People tell me to cut it back,
it is where it is not supposed to be, but
it is so beautiful and I am so lonely.
Day 3 of 30 for the Wednesday Muse.
I doubled up today. You can find my other, unlinked, poem HERE, at Mamba.