Antifragility

Robert Ronnow
The Imaginary i

Antifragility

The black walnut we planted is thriving,
even our honeylocust has survived.
A silver maple with six stems switching
every which way, is first to flower, last
to lose leaves. Couple of Norway maples
to string my hammock between. A knock-kneed
sugar maple, made for shade, and a young
bitternut hickory to replace the maple
when root rot takes it out. A white pine grew
like a weed, blocked the neighbor’s view but trees
make better neighbors than people. A river
birch that sweeps its branches like a girl
on a bicycle flying over the roof.

Bittersweet attacks a quaking aspen,
pursuing prey, and an unruly quince
attracts cardinals, rabbits, juncos and jays.
Two crab apples with magenta blossoms
illuminate our Spring and a red spruce
so tall you don’t notice it at all because
the foliage starts high above dead limbs
I keep uncut for wildlife cover.
Hemlocks and oaks where deer lay down their bones.
I’ve thought of adopting a yellow poplar
in memory of Dad, for the wet flat
where the silver maple's doing fine but
tulips need warm, well-drained soil, so no.