Birch Tree
For every crape myrtle or
towering magnolia we gain,
we lose one birch tree:
we lose one birch tree:
The slender stroke of
titanium white
among the muddy browns and
greens of summer;
The backbend held above the
vernal pool
bitter with generations of oak leaves
bitter with generations of oak leaves
The leaves, yellow or green,
dance
like wind chimes over the insects’ drone;
like wind chimes over the insects’ drone;
The taste of birch beer—
afternoons spent foraging for
wintergreen
following trails uphill
away from houses and highways
away from houses and highways
puzzling over stone walls and
apple trees
in the woods that no one
seemed to own.
Previously published at The Literary Nest.
Marianne Szlyk is the editor
of The Song Is... , an
associate poetry editor at Potomac
Review, and a professor of English at Montgomery College. Her second
chapbook, I Dream of Empathy, was
published by Flutter Press. Her poems have appeared in a variety of
online and print venues, including Silver
Birch Press, Cactifur, Of/with, bird's thumb, Truck, Algebra of Owls, The Blue
Mountain Review, and Yellow Chair
Review. Her first chapbook is available (for free) through Kind of a
Hurricane Press: http://barometricpressures.blogspot.com/2014/10/listening-to-electric-cambodia-looking.html
a very nice tribute to the birch tree. Is there really such a thing as birch beer?
ReplyDeleteThank you Marinne. I enjoyed your poem.
loved picturing this peaceful scene
ReplyDeleteThank you, Jack and Mary Jo. Yes, birch beer is probably more of a Northeastern drink. It's like root beer only lighter. I remember it being clear, but it can also be brown or red. I wonder if anyone makes a diet version! Here is an article about Pennsylvania's version of birch beer: http://modernfarmer.com/2014/12/birch-beer-best-soda-youve-never-tried/
ReplyDeleteHi Marianne,
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed your poem about the birch tree there used to be so many of them around where I live but not anymore unless I go up north.
Your last 5 lines I could relate to; spending afternoons doing the exact same thing. Thank you for sharing.
Sandra
Thank you very much, Sandra. Oddly enough I have seen birch trees in North Carolina, which is another poem!!
DeleteYour poem was a lovely escape, Marianne:
ReplyDeleteIt does set your mind to wondering when you find abandoned gardens or, in many cases, just a chimney standing. Best,
Suzanne Delaney
Thank you very much, Suzanne. :) These ruins certainly do set one's mind to wandering. Many of the woods in New England were once pastures, I belive.
Delete