"THE PASSING OF PINES"

THE PASSING OF PINES

It stood there for many years,

Tall and strong when we arrived 30 years ago,

Western-most tree among many,

Shielding sunlight, absorbing Westwind

Sending its roots to buckle our narrow driveway,

Marker on a busy street,

Signaller of a forested lot, sloping upwards to the east.

It has seen a lot – smog-absorbing, siren-pierced,

Horns abounding, people walking, the killing garage,

Rain-washed, hawks perching, jays squawking, owls hooting,

Lightning struck, cone-dropping

Yet, it grows and grows,

     So mighty and fertile that

It split into two branches at about twenty feet,

Making it vulnerable to many perils, (so the tree-man said)

Still it grows and grows.

I think on it now, as I stand on its Pine-Soul trunk,

All that’s left of its eighty foot might,

Felled this week because it was so strong

So fertile that it invaded county sewer lines,

Powerful roots slicing through terra, terra cotta, concrete

In search of the nutrient-rich water

Cascading down from our showers, dishes washed,

Laundry done, our times on the pot

Who needs rain when you’ve got the sewer?

I think on it now in a weekend of death

Death of giants, John Lewis, CT Vivian, Connie Curry,

A good friend struggling between life and death

Death visiting so closely in coronavirus,

Death trying to take root in the Trumpdemic.

And, my own mortality, but not just that,

     Though that is enough

But, a marking, a time of transition,

The old order passing, history emerging,

From preaching to chickens to the blows of Jim Clark,

To the words of my mother:  “No N-word in this house, Mister.”

I’m sorry to see you go, old friend, but

     Here it is

Our usage both fed you and killed you,

That’s the cycle of your life and ours

May my memories be so tall as you.

July 17, 2020