by Hokis, Senior Editor

hate and anger
anger and indifference
indifference and love
love and hate
hate and indifference
indifference and indifference
hate and hate
love and love

your fruitchild doesn’t hover far from thee.

her witnessed courtship pairing,
informs her innate sixth sense
that exists in between my
skylit canopy and
roothidden dirt.

Dedicated to the sturdy elm that stood as a constant in the backyard of my childhood home.  When it died, my dad turned it into a fort; a safe home for me. This poem was written after my dad died. I guess I turned my dad into a poem; a safe home for him.

Photo by Brian Birzer/Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center