PEAR TREE STUMP


I remember the year it gave all those pears.
It was its last year.

I think it knew what it was doing.
I think it knew what it was giving.

I think it knew that it was giving up.
I think it knew it was the ghost it was giving up.

Around the stump, shoots are growing up.
I don't think any one will ever become a pear tree.

It looks more like a delicate wrought iron fence.
It looks like the kind around the tombstones of the rich dead.

J.R. Solonche

The Adirondack Review
The St. Lawrence Book Award for a first collection of short stories or poems
The St. Lawrence Book Award for a first collection of short stories or poems
The St. Lawrence Book Award for a first collection of short stories or poemsThe St. Lawrence Book Award for a first collection of short stories or poemsThe St. Lawrence Book Award for a first collection of short stories or poems
The St. Lawrence Book Award for a first collection of short stories or poems
J.R. SOLONCHE is coauthor (with wife Joan Siegel) of Peach Girl: Poems for a Chinese Daughter (Grayson Books). His poems have appeared in numerous magazines, journals and anthologies. He teaches at SUNY Orange in Middletown, NY.