(This one is was inspired by Lyla Willingham Lindquist’s poem “The Landscape” at Every Day Poems)
we think of them growing (or not), bearing fruit (or not)
but they are alive, right? So they must behave (or not).
Perhaps my pecan tree is rebellious
Maybe it’s been hanging with the wrong crowd—that upstart live oak.
When it withholds its pecans every other year, is it punishing me? Or is that just how pecan trees are these days?
It could be I’m letting it down.
I never did fertilize, never got around to it.
All the other trees in the neighborhood have mulch. Come to think of it, I can’t say why I never bought any.
And I’ve been meaning to start a compost pile for forever.
The tree must’ve seen my pathetic attempt at a startup, turned its leaves away from me, buried its fruit deep.