2001/fallen

In India to plant
a tree was virtue,
to cut one down
a kind of murder.
Roads were lined
with trees
that offered fruit
and shade.
And common wisdom
said fallen fruit
belonged to any
passing stranger.
This winter a
citrus in my
yard has died.
The fruit was
too bitter to eat
and the guilt
I feel too bitter
to swallow.

3/30/01