A soft wind sweeps over the yard… The pears are coming. They are small as plover eggs. Branches are heavy and uneven. How green and sober everything is. Share this: Share on X (Opens in new window) X Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook More Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit Print (Opens in new window) Print Like Loading... Related Author: stevekuusisto Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University View all posts by stevekuusisto