Landmark
It was at the dinner feast,
Biting into a fruit, I found that seed.
It was the end of spring, the beginning of fall.
Not the season for planting at all.

It was the end of winter,
Playing with the best of friends,
Fingers found it among, stray lint and threads,
We buried it, near green edge of the ground.

Years have past,
Seasons gone by,
Since that dinner and since that game,
Hard to imagine, a landmark of this expanding town,
Is that seed at all.