062815 every season


i long to see other humans in this
supposed-community scrambling
to pluck the sour-sweet sun-ripe plums
from the tree before they fall…
not for any reason of greed
but from a place of appreciation
and humility
for these gifts given unto us
so freely every season.

such a scene might indicate to me
an uncivil act of treason:
how we know (and love) ourselves
how we know (and love) one another, and
how we know (and love) the land
and from this knowledge and love
for the trinity of need
we might build abiding community
and break allegiance to the system.

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