This came out of two conversations:  One with Nimue, and another with Leif.  Both are “outside the box” poets, each with a dark and a light side. I want to acknowledge them both for conversations we have had that resulted in this poem. Please check out their sites!   Also at Poets United, naturally!  Amy

Tree Of My Soul
for Nimue and Leif

Half oak
Half willow
Bark soft as leather
or tough as truth

Fruit hangs from its branches
Mangoes, apples, peaches
but no olives
nor any fruit that requires
pickling or processing

Only fruits that are
picked from the twigs
devoured warm in the sun
juice running down my chin
like good sex

Watch for the spring sprout
see it birthed into a bud
wait, wait until
the time is right
the fruit is ripe

Only then is my soul

© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil