By stevieslaw
It leafed out absent-mindedly
this year, our junk maple.
A street planting from the fifties,
its branches bald and barren here and there,
though not alarmingly so—
just enough that you would notice,
if you were the kind who’d notice.
It will weather this year, I imagine,
and most likely the next,
but I worry about
our foreseeable future.
On this spot, a twig of a thing,
staked out against the bare breeze,
stands in the unshadowed sun
while from this old house, some
other someone will watch it grow.
Bio: Steve Deutsch’s work has appeared in Eclectica Magazine, The Ekphrastic Review, New Verse News, Silver Birch Press, and Misfit Magazine.
I love the turn in the piece where the fate of the tree and the writer become one — “…but I worry about our foreseeable future…” Well done.
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Well done Steve ! I like this a lot.
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Great poem Steve. Makes one think. Well done. ☺
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thank you
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I like what you’re doing with this poem, what lies beneath the surface, unsaid.
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thanks, lisa
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Subtle and beautiful, the turn gave me a shiver. Lovely writing, Steve.
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thanks, ryan
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Reblogged this on Sarah Russell Poetry and commented:
My friend Steve Deutsch writes narratives that always dig below the surface of their words. He also writes a delicious satirical political blog at stevieslaw.com. Enjoy!
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I liked the gentle connections of the world growing older, beautifully worded.
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