Sprouting up from the crushed
stump of a previous life, this tree
is really two--one slightly fuller,
twins joined at the hip.
According to Western Garden, one
should be pared, the other made singular,
yet how were we to choose? Lopper and saw
in hand, we paused--paired
ourselves, and accustomed to the fit.
Rooted, less by love as by a certain
coherence of desires, by what can't be
divided. Now, as spring's first lily crowns
crack the sod and bees hunt fragrance,
purple globes open on each branch tip,
weighting them in unison
with their net of nectar.
Copyright 1997, Peter Pereira
Peter Pereira is a family physician in Seattle and an editor at Floating Bridge Press. His poems have
appeared in Poetry East, Seattle Review, and other literary magazines.