Thursday, August 26, 2021

She Returns to the Farm

          (with memories of Tom Rickman)


It is raining. There are apples.
It is. There are. Apples, rain, mud,
land. Land not built on. Yet. At 
night, such quiet, much quiet,
too much . . . .

The reckless ones died early.
The cautious ones grew old and died.
The orchard grew into a farm, 
which grew into an operation. 

Thus orchard, a young grafted
tree,  became a mature
producer. Which became an
autonomous hybrid banyan/apple
tree walking around the place,
planting itself. She
does/doesn't understand. 

It is raining. There are apples.
The money is good. She can't stay. 


hans ostrom 2021

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