Young Maples - Garth Gilchrist

[Larry Robinson]

Young Maples
 
I remember maples
Smooth bark
Like gray glass
On a February pond
Leafless supple switches
Winter wands
Buds furled with tight-fisted notions
Brewing dreams of leaves and wind
A contained explosiveness in
Sleeping saplings
Alarms and excites me, ready
With the first hint of warmth
To burgeon, to double their size 
Nearly splitting their skin with
Calm, wild hurry
 
I recall when I was eager 
To grow into the dream 
Of who I was sure I would be
Maples have no hesitancy –
How did mine overtake me? –
Don’t second guess
Or sink weary of being maples
Nor begin to doubt their place 
In the woods. Do they?
Perhaps too many snow storms
Rock falls, lightening strikes 
Can slow them
Even a tree is not so sure
And of course there are the lumbermen
Two by fours and cheap furniture
In their eyes
I shall return to the young maples
Perhaps if I listen to their leaves
In the April wind
 
	- Garth Gilchrist