The tree is sleeping,
\nmy sapling tree,
\nwhere two trees died
\nin the rainless hurricane of Ike.
\nThin as a blade.
\nMary and I selected it among orphans.
\nSpindly oak.
\nNow it is resting in the bedroom of the winter.
\nIn its new home of permanent horizon.
\nThe barrenness is beckoning
\nto hold a child.
\nA new tree spirit.<\/p>\n
I imagine its first buds,
\nits new leaves,
\nthe longing we have for shade again.
\nA place to put the pools for the boys.
\nTo sit and dream between
\nthe afternoon and evening of life
\nand watch our new child grow.
\nThe atoms of youth uniting
\nwith the open arms of the day,
\ncome spring when it\u2019s awakening
\nreaches to the mothering sky.
\nA member of our family.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The tree is sleeping, my sapling tree, where two trees died in the rainless hurricane of Ike. Thin as a blade. Mary and I selected…<\/p>\n