The Plum Tree
How did the despair become
fluid for clear, dry eyes to shed?
Why did the burden on the heart
allow the stress and cause the beat
to finally stop now limp to the touch?
I’ve learned to live bringing such pain,
to bear as a heaviness and darkness
conjoin in a ripe nectar squeezed from
my mind creating an apathetic caste.
In these times of death, we hum our
dirges and become oracles of peace
while pounding that holy black book
forever bound by the millions of souls.
Remorseful, I’ve learned to inhale deep
as I await my turn to be quickly plucked
from that great plum tree of life, ripe as
I search for an epistemic loftiness below.
© Ken Allan Dronsfield
About the Author
Ken Allan Dronsfield is a disabled veteran and poet, originally from New Hampshire, now residing on the southern plains of Oklahoma. He was nominated for 2 Best of the Net and 3 Pushcart Prize Awards for 2016-2017. Ken’s work has been published throughout North and South America, Europe, Asia, Australia and Africa. His poems can be found in The Burningword Journal, Belle Reve Journal, Blue Heron, The Literary Hatchet, The Stray Branch, Now/Then Manchester Magazine UK, Scarlet Leaf Review, EMBOSS Magazine, and many more. Ken loves thunderstorms, walking in the woods at night and spending time with his cats Willa, Hemi and Turbo. Since 2009, Ken has worked on Wolf Preservation websites and Native American websites as a writer, art contributor and poet. His first collection, “The Cellaring”, a collection of 80 haunting, paranormal, weird and wonderful poems, has been released and is available through Amazon.com.
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