Pear Harvest

The old red Ford truck waits;
We fill our buckets and tubs with
Hard yellow Kieffer pears
From a spreading gnarled tree,

Planted years ago by some homesteader.

We owe him or her
Who dug the hole
Spread the sapling’s roots 
In the waiting soil, 
Who watered,
Who pruned so we could harvest
Sweet fruit.

Published by Elece

I am a photographer and a freelance writer. I write stories, poetry, gift books, and magazine articles––both print and online. Photographing children, places, and especially flowers is my hobby.

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