Arbor Day: a poem

— for my twin sister —

Do you remember when

we thought you were allergic

to the crab apple trees

at the top of the hill

at our grade school?

I was so mad at those trees

for being so beautiful.

Those delicate petals

falling so dramatically yet

so serenely to the grass below,

the flowers hugging their

branches tightly in hues

of magenta, burgundy, and lilac

between creased pointed oval leaves

and smelling so sweetly.

I did not want the desire to

walk up that hill and

take each future fruit into my hands,

to talk to it gently,

to learn of the earth and the grass

and its creatures below

but there I was,

a plant lover and a critter lover

even then,

betraying my allergy-ridden other half

whispering tell me

tell me your secrets o rooted one

and I will listen

with rapt attention

and eager eye

though my heart may scatter and scar

I will come back to both of you

giver of life and keeper of soul

I am here to listen again

so tell me

tell me and root me

dear tree

dear sister

tell me.

4–30–21

Tansy Julie Soaring Eagle Paschold