Plum - Pity Sex

My mother loved the summer

But not for the weather

She loved the mid-season plums

June, July, August sweet ones

My father kept them plenty

Always stocked in our pantry

Some ripe and some well past peak

Till she was too sick to eat

Still at my childhood home

The only home that I’ve known

I spent her last few weeks there

Watching her fade and wither

I know what I should have done

I should have buried those plums

Somewhere they wouldn’t be found

Let them turn pits in the ground

So he wouldn’t have to watch them wilt too

Cause my mother died in mid-June

And I knew, oh I knew

He couldn’t look at the fruit

No, he would just let them prune

No, he would just let them prune

My mother died in mid-June

And I knew, oh I knew

That day my father died too

That day my father died too