In the soft shade beneath your whispering leaves
impatiens grows,
a round red rug around your slender trunk.

Pale green moss like a wooly sweater
clings to your rough and
craggy bark.

You stretch your arms in disarray
as if to pluck your pears at random
from the air.

Golden, full and sweet your fruit,
I raise my hands in hope
to catch what bounty you might drop.

H. Rand Swansey

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pear-tree-2/