Small Jars of Jam

Your lies hang,

apricots swaying 

in the summer air

from the tree 

of your despair.

You pick the ripest apricots

to make jam

you ladle into small jars,

gifting them to friends 

who smile softly,

touched you think of them

by gifting your small jars of jam

made from the apricots 

you pick from the tree 

of all your despair 

denied.