Things on trees

summer days seem to take their time
i like how this frond dribbles shadows on my face
keeps that brightest ray from my eye
but i wouldn't deny good light any further
the tree is large and old
brazen fruit have spent their time in the sun
they have gotten too ripe
back round that cracking branch is a nest
tiny shuffled noises amid bigger things
where sometimes life is allowed its small victories
and grateful impatience multiplies
surely as the sweetest brothered fruit
they fall to the hungry soil untasted in full
to spend the rest of eternity as strangers
like this will a chick grow and kill and be killed
and fronds soon turn brown and expire
like things on trees we take our turns with
waiting mouths and lonely eyes
we prosper for a time and feel we must endure
but surely these dreams meet their sunset too.