We stayed at the harvest late

working the trees,

ladder, climb, pick

ladder, climb, pick


My feet remember the ache

my hands, the shape of each fruit,



It’s been a year 

since we harvested.

And it was one tree, one fruit.


You talk of gathering ladders

and climbing again,


I’m still dreaming of fruit.


25 Oct 08

Dave Barber

(Thanks Robert Frost!)