Outliving a Plumb Tree
I drove back to my childhood home-for a funeral.
I sniffed around some old stomping grounds...
The "monkey trail" was an overgrown path that led to the baseball fields
The first sign of a dying town is to nick it in the vein.
The trains had long ago stopped running.
I was happy the locomotive had croaked.
You see that metal monster ate my puppy a long time ago.
Just around the block from my home,
we used to sneak over the neighbor's fence.
Pinch a few plums, juice running down our virgin mugs.
Munching away the summer months...
The plum tree is gone now,
I wonder if the faceless "plumbers" are still around.
Anyhow, the funeral went off without a glitch
. The holy man was short. Plump and sweet...
I've outlived a cousin, a puppy killer, and an old plumb tree.
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