You can’t really be a Calgary poet and NOT have at least one poem about poplars, I think. So here’s mine. Happy Canada Day to all who celebrate!
The Loyal Ones
for J.R.
The sloping of the ground toward the drying creek
makes her stop and turn her head to look a while
on stands of poplar shaking in the wind beside
the ornamental caragana. How can trees
be so much like a mother – holding their branches
out for comfort their beloved ones are too old,
now, to fully understand? Seasons of long drought
and heat will come and go, and seasons, too of frost,
but love outlasts them and will outlast us – its leaves
like patient prayer flags waiting for another storm.
Lovely.
Now I would love to see one about the boy poplars too, yes, those guys who spread their seed promiscuously and without discernment, hoping some will land, oblivious to the sneezes and red eyes they cause in their human admirers.