The Book Nook Chronicles

Poem inspired by Victoria Shorr’s The Plum Trees

A voice from the grave 
tolled like a summons,
We were Czechs. We love our country.

The mystery of life had come clear:
take the hate out, 
and accept imperfection.
God might still be God.

In a land where plum trees 
meant little,
he never spoke of the plums.
Golden on the inside, 
the skin almost navy blue.