Saplings
Nancy White
Image: Linda Briskin
our city
neighbors wanted
to buy the corn field
so they could put a house
looking out on the whole valley
couple of last
saplings—we left them
blocking that view of the brook
we never quite finish what we do
next door
they probably think
we’re lazy but there’s always something
and you know I
could be the pause
where something happens
and these trees—some of them
should get to grow for no reason
no particular reason at all
Nancy White is the author of three poetry collections: Sun, Moon, Salt (winner of the Washington Prize), Detour, and Ask Again Later. Her poems have appeared in Beloit Poetry Review, FIELD, New England Review, Ploughshares, Rhino, and many others. She serves as editor-in-chief at The Word Works in Washington, D. C. and teaches at SUNY Adirondack in upstate NY.
Image: “Nature’s Architecture III” by Linda Briskin