the pear tree

under the forgotten
pear tree
that sits shadowed
in the far corner
of the bricked
yard. tired of
pears. done with
the fruit it
bears year in
year out, without
fail, but still
you go to sit
there to read,
setting pears
aside with a new
book, another
life unfolding
as yours keeps
onward as it is.
the same fruit,
neither too bitter
nor too sweet.