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 the quaking aspen
past the mailbox 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.