Bruce Niedt

Cedar

(after Sylvia Plath)

 

we inherited the house

so we don't know the history of the tree

planted in a row with its brothers -

 

a windbreak, I think they call it -

a natural fence along our back property line

that has grown stories high over decades

 

but this one looks different -

the branches are dying and little twigs

rain on the lawn after each storm

 

the trunk bows out from the ground

curving straighter as it reaches up

yet still looking precarious

 

the feathery leaves are sparser this year

than last, and if this giant decided to fall

it would slam right through our kitchen

 

when my wife was a child

one took out her swing set

moments after she left the seat

 

we talk about getting an arborist

sending little men to shimmy up the trunk

and trim it with knives and saws

 

perhaps right down to the stump

but meanwhile it looms over the yard

whispering

 

I move slower than an hour hand

slower than moss

but faster than procrastination

 

look out, look out, look out

 

(From The Bungalow of Colorful Aging, Kelsay Books, 2022.)