On Their Own

I left my vines alone to grow
Sprout leaves and push through their white tubes
With no one there to see them raise
Their reaching arms to the light at high noon
The soil I’ve toiled and tilled and turned
The water run to each a drip
I’ve watched each bud and branch unfurl
Awaiting the fruit that someday I’ll sip
My vines I’ve left at home alone
Without my daily praise and song
I hope they know they are still beautiful
And that I won’t be gone for long

The Saw’s Lament

Perhaps come winter they will appear
Break through the frozen ground
With hope and new vigor
Perhaps the last remaining stand
In a grove where once
Their colleagues soldiered side by side
Reaching upwards towards the sky
Light-winged friends
And good fortune
Perched within their guard
Will save that place beside themselves
For one new life to start
Perhaps the sound of chain and blade
Will dampen in the wake
Of trembling earth and silence shattered
Of homeless families scattered
Who watched them split and sawed to dust
Perhaps the earth will not detect
One, or two, or three more gone
Nor the warmth be blamed upon
The one last tree that I cut down

The Vines Have Arrived

The vines have arrived!
The vines have arrived!
Horary at last they are here
We’ve prepared and toiled
And soiled our shorts
We’ve worked in the dirt
Until everything hurt
They are here! They are here!
UPS arrived with a sawdust filled crate
For us to unwrap, inspect and separate
The vines have arrived!
Do they measure up?
Are the grafts neatly intact?
Will they be happy here
Once they adapt?
Hooray, today vines have arrived