Harper Lake Hope
sometimes good news comes to greet you
when you hadn’t thought of looking it up for weeks really
hadn’t tried to imagine what it’s been up to
who it’s hanging out with
where it’s living these days
but there it is, right in your path
ready to clap you on the shoulder:
the big cottonwood still stands
its branches filled with stars
its every fiber a witness to these parched days
the flames didn’t even dare to lick its roots
and its whole patch of grass is still a dull January green
not black
and yes, its branches are covered with fat, conical buds
it’s going to keep spreading shade for all of us
drinking in what we belch out
and sending papery hearts out on the wind next fall
even when everything ceases to work
the way you thought it always would
sometimes a small miracle occurs
and wood makes sugar out of sun
and fresh air from our exhausted sighs
and filters glare to green
and we find we’ll still have a place to rest
where wind may slow to a whisper
