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Song to a Plum


by Darryl Price


"In my life, I love you more." John Lennon/The Beatles

We were never really rolling in the 
same Chinese dragon bowl together, but 
our heart bag was just big enough for two. 
I loved that. Chocolate is such a good 
peace maker among friends. Don't you think? I 

mean, it's the cake that brings out all the sharp 
knives. However, we could use them to cut 
ourselves a large enough hole in the back,
when no one is watching, and escape out 
to the night, which is just another black 

bag. Potentially, to square one again. 
If we were in the same blue bowl, it was 
more like some kind of scattered light from a 
nearby window pane capturing sunset 
than a little fire started from a dream 

spark. I saw your instantaneous speed, 
like a landscape from a slow moving train, 
skating on by. Go out of frame. I've spent 
my whole life painting different clouds, in 
search for the right sky, ever since, on all 

the ceilings of my life. It's the least I 
can do. That's what Rembrandt taught me. You can't 
return to anywhere, but you can be 
mentally present and accounted for 
by your actions in the now seat. That way, 

you can also see into all things, back 
and forth, like with deliberate brush strokes, 
finding exactly what you are looking 
for still being itself in the not so 
lost after all moment. That bag's always 

sitting there, where you and I left it. Some 
people might go mad looking inside it 
much too eagerly. Others get mad at
deciding if it's worth the bother. For 
me, I like the realness of it domain, 

just as it is, without putting too much 
false hope into where its portal lives. Does 
it really matter if it's endless eyes or 
a kissable mouth you are drawn into? 
You can't suck the wisdom out of its wound, 

but you can kick the knowledge of it on 
down the road with your travels--but only 
if you are not already carrying 
enough heavy bags with you . You've still got 
to be steady on your feet, my friend, eh? 
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