(Nagara Oyodo, Unsplash)

we believe the shoot sprouting in the yard auspicious    our sandy
patch of land blessed    and blessed     again and watch
over years   seedling to sapling to tree   then blossoms
and our neighbor declares it   black cherry   arbitrarily seeded
by a random bird though our two young children insist   on purpose
insist  god  and  goldfinch  wrought this perfect spot  sun
shade   unimpeded   growth bloom surpassing their own relentless
springing   with its towering   shocking-pink   colossal
blossoming   flagrant marzipan   waft   flourishing so pervasive
we forget    intent on carpool    robotics club   jazz  tap
rollerblading   past balm   grandfather doddering to dementia
mother plucked mid-sweep from her kitchen  how could we not
hold on   to that tree   we failed  to cherish   until too late   old
and ill   it must-be-cut-down   to save roof   car  a grandchild
bent on a risky climb on some sure-to-come blustery afternoon
so yes    we fell the tree    savaging beauty    and what’s missing
pains thin air        rippling        aching        like a phantom limb 

Mary Beth Hines is the author of Winter at a Summer House (Kelsay Books, 2021). Her poetry, short fiction, and nonfiction appear widely in literary magazines including, most recently, Presence, Solstice Literary Magazine, and Tar River Poetry. Her manuscripts were finalists in Fool for Poetry’s and Comstock Review’s 2023 chapbook contests. Connect with her at marybethhines.com.

Published in the June 2026 issue: View Contents