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July 24, 2007  He thought of all the plums that had ever existed. He thought of plum trees that gave plums in Septembers, and how some Septembers were colder than others. He thought of how sturdy and reliable the plums were, and their trees too; trees that birthed branches that grew through black iron railings and towards open spaces. He thought of jackets in September sun, and wind, or how the sky could turn, soon shades of gray, and approaching black, and rains rained on the plum trees. When this happened the trees grew heavier in mood, but could bare their burden. In the night, the rain would stop, but the wind would continue for a time, and while it did, it made a certain noise, almost a whistle, through the plum trees. When the wind stopped there was only the silence of the thick darkness, and he had to have faith that the plums were still there. He looked and looked, from a second floor balcony, and it was almost as if the plums were not there. But they were there, the darkest purple plums, waiting in space but linked to the branches above also, which in turn were all connected to the tree, which was rooted in the earth, the round earth, and maybe, from some cosmic balcony, someone was looking at the earth, the juicy purple September earth wet windy dark swayed and still. ------------ Email Brian Michael Barbeito: Brian1750@Hotmail.com Comment on this article here! ------------ All articles are EXCLUSIVE to Useless-Knowledge.com and are not allowed to be posted on other websites. ARTICLE THIEVES WILL BE PROSECUTED! |
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