Yield

Standing in the back yard of my typewriter

Rooted in the mercenary lavish

Of symbiosis for the equity of propagation

A peach tree grows a desirous fruit

Wrapped in the aspire of future yield

Like the penitent prayer of an old poet

Steeped in the selfish pursuits of philanthropic proclaim

For even the most generous heart

has an indulgent spirit

Its quarry, may be a smile

on the victim of a familiar wound;

or a freshly planted peach pit

bathed in the promise

of a many a harvest yet to come

but one thing is for certain

benevolent is not the peach tree

nor the author of soothes compose

though they may smile

at the trickles of nectar

dripping down freshly nourished cheeks

it is they, that get renewed

© 2021 Robert Trakofler

A poem, a picture, or a peach tree are nothing without a witness and for yours, I am always grateful thank you