OctPoWriMo Day 7 - Pear Shaped Confession

I plant the tree

the way one does

pour hopes and dreams 

into the hole 

along with water 

stake it straight 

fear the locusts rising 

fret as sudden squalls 

bend her almost in two

the years whirl by 

mulching pruning

occasional caress 

when no one

is around to see me

hugging a tree

finally she blooms 

I choose which 

small fruits will be given 

the chance to grow full-size

fret again 

stink bugs 

squirrels 

hurricane winds

the summer 

whirls by 

it is time

tree, I did not know you would be a lesson

hope for beauty

receive frankenfruit

misshapen lumpy 

mottled sick faced green

almost leave them 

on the tree 

to rot

but I cannot 

waste five years

so I pick the fruits

hide them away 

to ripen 

a month later 

I cut into them 

with reluctance 

find perfect flesh inside