Monday, August 7, 2017

My Wry Rowans

We brought in no prey to Fionn
but the berries of the tree and two swine.
                                                                   “
The Wry Rowan,” The Lays of Fionn
Rowan tree,
like the willow tree,
tardy in array.
Rowan tree,
I didn’t know you were a rowan tree
until just today.
Rowan tree—
two, actually—
rising beside my garage entry.

Two rowan trees,
sprung from seeds
dropped in a load of bird poop.
Two rowan trees
with orange berries—
now more than thirty feet tall.
Portal trees,
greeting me
when I trigger the electric garage door opener.
Protector trees,
phylacteries,
keeping witches away from my car.
Traveler trees,
locating me
when I’m lost in Minneapolis without a clue.

Rowan tree,
I brought home no groceries
but your bitter berries and two pork chops.