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May 10, 2008


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patricia ludwick

dear dear trudy

i am sitting here breathing with you, looking out my window at the blossoms on the wild pear tree, which has two-inch long thorns and bears hard bitter fruit, but the blossoms are like miniature bridal bouquets - offering themselves to this cool and cloudy May morning when the bees don't come for the sweet nectar hidden inside the pure white petals. The tree is tall enough now that blocks the view, but knowing how the deer love the tiny pears in the autumn, i keep putting off cutting it down. Breathing in what is: always some beauty, always some hidden pain.

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