it was not blissful
nor was it sweet.
not a plum—
dangling, juicy, & waiting
to be swallowed;
no, the days have been
seemingly deceitful.
rearing its head with delight;
throwing itself into the high of the
sky. but below, the smaller things,
they bend their spines deep to
bare the weight of
the plump sun, heavy with
her expectations.