The Plum

[oneighty]

Carl and I came upon the plum in the overgrown fields of a dying farm. The home had already fallen to the earth. The nearby forest is approaching the very last plum tree in the old orchard.

On the last plum tree in the orchard is also the very last plum. It is swollen ripe with the resources of nature, purple and black, glistening wet in the early morning sun. The last of the wet collects into beads of water on the plum and drips slowly to the ground.

The plum is removed from the tree. Carl and I share the wonderful treat, juices in our mouths and on our chins. The pulpy fruit is tender and sweet. The skin is tough and not sweet but a bit sour.

Licking our fingers clean we move on to our next adventure of that day a long time ago.

From 'Voyages of the Vicky Mary'. Copyright.

180

[Call Me Wesley]

1. Kick for the writers and readers.

There is much to learn from our passed friend Ed - condensed writing; every sentence its own story, its own imaginary with the freedom to include our own.

I don't know if he really knew what a fine writer he was, a poet, a lyricist.

Safe passage, Ed. You're missed.

[JitterbugPerfume]

2. When I told him he was a fine writer

he would say "you are so biased" to which I answered "you're damn right I am!"

[frogmarch]

3. I remember

how struck I was at the honesty, the realism, of Ed's writing the first time I read one of his stories here. I told him I wished I could write as he did - clearly, and straight from the heart. In a few days, when I think I can open it without tears welling up, I will revisit the copy of Kazuko he sent me. It's a bittersweet story but also poignant and beautiful. It's Ed.

Not long before Ed passed away, I mentioned to him that I'd recently taken up the Irish whistle. I was thinking about sending him a link to an mp3 I'd made of my whistle playing, but I decided to wait to serenade him till I was a better player...so I didn't send it. Here's the mp3, now my humble tribute to a sweet, always-supportive friend whom I will miss very much.

http--www.whistlethis.com-utunes-fc6f082f619305eb6fd94f99d4c17157.mp3

(I guess because of the http-- the URL must be copied and pasted if anyone wants to listen.)