When you propose a big family
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx of pines
I think first of white spruce in treble file,
soprano quills trilling songs of moons
and yellowed affairs. All the while,
this planting is more than just the touch
of opened earth. Pines bear the weight
of settling and children. How long, how much
to give? Seedlings wink at my fate,
as though they know before I do. My answer
is wavy, not bent on evergreens’ appeal.
But see the father lead his girl in manners
of dipping roots, and how to water real
needs. Yes, feral is the love born in seeds.
I let the water coast to the needles.