“Green”

One upright sapling
incised into black soil,
or a host
of willowy branches
reaching their verdant lace
into sky.                         Willed
growth from earth’s
improbable riches.  This,
we say, is the way
things are supposed
to be on our fair orbiting
home—abundant, vital,
spruce, multi-flowing and
formed, sap-filled, and
fragrance-supped—
even us, growing, growing,
growing in the green
of ordinary time.