What Drought Hath Wrought
I thought trees didn’t die
especially not my maple, my lost maple
It’d be fine without rain. Oh sure
we cut back on running the sprinklers since
well
they were broken
but I should’ve at least poured out the dog’s water bowl
on those roots I should’ve
done a few rain dances in the moonlight
should’ve prayed just once
But the tree guys
the young one with the moustache and the older one with the aviators
said the maple — “It ain’t gonna get any less dead” — was killing
the pecan tree.
“F’we cut it down, off the power lines, that pecan’ll grow right. Get some sun.”
I don’t know if the pecan tree has noticed it can breathe but
it has thanked us, filled our grass with nuts.
“F’we”
You’re a good listener.
I am pondering the image of you doing a rain (liturgical?) dance in the moonlight.
I like your seeing a rain of nuts as an act of thanks. Some folks wouldn’t.
Megan, I can see this poem in my mind, having spent many long visits in the Hill Country. (I believe my father in law has a Lost Maples state park hat that my grandson is wearing….)
Bummer about the maple, but so glad the pecan is happy.