Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White

I cha cha or rumba with many
different trees. Look at the willow,
swaying in a perpetual ballroom dance,
bending but never surrendering
a backbone. Or the cherry tree,
all the magic pies it balances
in each cherry yet still able to shake.
The apple, tasty planets forming
even on the lower branches,
little Uranuses in supple improvs.
Sometimes the whole yard
Is in motion, even when wind sleeps.
Trees, rooted,
yet no one is more free.

 

Poem by Kenneth Pobo

Kenneth Pobo is a gardener and these poems reflect that experience. His most recent book is Wingbuds, Cyberwit Press, in 2019. His work has appeared in: North Dakota Quarterly, Nimrod, Mudfish, Atlanta Review, Hawaii Review, and elsewhere.

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