Under tree canopy

kaminskiTreeCanopy2.jpg

by oakleaf hydrangea

sipping creekside, watching fat bumblebees

drunk and stumbling. In shade in shelter

our smallness grows into something strong

no longer afraid to take up space or yield

  to powdery blossom. 

Peonies, dogwood, and shining blue star,   

gentle teachers of sweetness of stopping 

to breathe and soft touch. Maybe it’s true that we 

are all alone together. Able to imagine a 

variety of sadnesses other than our own and,

in that seeing, our chance to open to face the sun.

Young robins chatter incessant and willow leaves

curl waxy green in fingers providing company and counsel:

How to fall over again and again and keep going.

How easy to linger in the wayside, sit by the water

and allow each verdant brush to transform 

seed into wily seedling, bud to pink flower.

How to realize each expectant whisper in our own heart.

kaminskiTreeCanopy1.jpg

Megan Kaminski is a poet and essayist—and the author of three books of poetry, Gentlewomen (Noemi Press, 2020), Deep City (Noemi, 2015) and Desiring Map (Coconut Books, 2012). Read more.


Previous
Previous

Excerpted from “Epiphany in the Beans”

Next
Next

Rewilding the Yard