Birds, Plums and Planes

I like seeing the sunlight cutting through the branch of a tree. 

I like sitting underneath

Observing watery shadows drawn on my feet. 

I get jittery, 

the birds might jump me.

I try to be quiet and still. 

I know I'm breaking in.

If I pretended to be a spy

and stepped out of the light,

maybe nobody would notice me.

I'd come unseen.

I'm envious as I see

the birds coming up and down as they please. 

I feel them. I want to jump out of a plane.

My neighbor doesn't seem to care. 

I wonder if I did the same—climbed up the fence, 

grabbed a plum and took off—

Would he come knocking on my door? 

Fishing for an apology? Threatening me?

We have an apple tree on our side.

The Birds are not into it.

They prefer the plums. So do I. 

My apples look weird and pink. 

Something must be rotten inside

or they are just not ripe. 

Breasts of a baby calf.

- God, I really need a skydive rush.