Home Again

Coming Home at Twilight in Late Summer 

We turned into the drive, 
and gravel flew up from the tires 
like sparks from a fire. So much 
to be done -- the unpacking, the mail 
and papers; the grass needed mowing ... 
We climbed stiffly out of the car. 
The shut-off engine ticked as it cooled. 

And then we noticed the pear tree, 
the limbs so heavy with fruit 
they nearly touched the ground. 
We went out to the meadow; our steps 
made black holes in the grass: 
and we each took a pear, 
and ate, and were grateful. 

-- Jane Kenyon