The acorns
dropping onto cars
sound like popcorn
in the microwave.
Catkins carpet the ground.
Tree roots
snap the sidewalk slabs in two.
But what I want to talk about is
why you attacked me
before my first bite of breakfast
about the political mess,
as if any of it is my fault,
as if all of it is–
the hourly shifts of fortune,
the desperation,
the partisans clinched
like spent boxers.
There is all that. Yes.
And there is the slow work of the oak.
A professional editor for over thirty years, Ed works in a variety of genres. His projects have received publishing and professional awards.