Thoughts of a Calabash Tree
I was loving the sun,
Not consciously doing anything
My gourds hanging sweetly,
Too big to move much
Dancing with internal mirth
Because I was being picked today
It is always a relief to a calabash
When the pickers arrive
I heard laughter and stood a bit taller
Glad I could see farther than bushes
But no one showed, so I knew
It was not the pickers.
I sat back and enjoyed the
love of the sun a little longer,
excited the gourds would be going to new homes
today, knowing they would love
being bird houses and decorations
Feeling sad for the ones who
would be turned into tobacco pipes
They are all my children,
I want them all to
breathe and enjoy
the sun...
|