Peach Tree

At the swollen belly of a river bank

there the peach tree rests, finally.

After years of growing awkwardly.

It became too large for the meadow - despite the sycamore’s request -

first stretching, then swelling, then blooming,

as it turned carob into rose.

It’s been 19 years since I witnessed

it's long, curved spine, bending down

to peck the flowers

but I long to see that old peach tree sigh now,

bringing with it a reminder that

I, too, bruised like its peaches once

Easily and without rebuttal

and I, too, blushed like its ripest fruit

right down to the pit of me

and I, too, took long in

growing elbows that could hold the weight of a life planted for me by

someone else.