Proposal for a Monument of Pears

Four pears in all, and all of them gigantic:

Two in the foreground looming up, obscurely

Questioning our values, giving answers

In an ambiguous fashion which will surely

Offer much comfort, solace: the distressed of

Heart will remain here in grey droves for hours,

Until the third pear seems to them the breast of

A green girl, ripening: beyond it towers

The patriarch of pears-orgulous, sullen,

Not to be sliced compliantly in wedges

And taken as dessert with runny cheeses:

Restored, the pilgrims sink upon their knees, as

They see the carved words, brown around the edges,

Of its simple inscription: FOR THE FALLEN