When I was a kid we
planted trees by the lake
72 pine seedlings hauled
north in milk cartons
arranged on the back
floor of a ’39 Dodge
the trees and I were
small, green, pliable
in need of nurturing
the Dodge sits now in a
junkyard, the remaining
pines scrape the sky
I remember each and
every one, hardly trying
Ponderable polemics, poetic 