The lonely plum

Here's the plum harvest this year. I happened to glance up while I was weeding under the tree and there it was, clinging to the trunk alone. But not quite-- John spotted 4 or 5 more all covered in aphids. Ugh. The bees were still asleep when the tree bloomed back in cold, dismal March. Better luck next year.

William Carlos Williams wrote the best plum poem ever. And maybe the best apology poem ever. After he gobbled up his wife's plums, he wrote this on a napkin in the kitchen:

This is Just to Say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold