One morning in a snow storm
I hid in your arms long as I could
as the bucket man
from the power company
top down
a branch at a time
my maple
summer shade
taller than a church
just to run a new line
down the drive.
from my window I yelled
Save that branch from the chipper
put it on my love cat’s grave.

Last night in a dream
that tree returned for me
it’s solid gray truck
bare limbs reaching
weaving up together
under singing birds
when I saw a big cannonball bomb
strapped to its trunk
and thought
If I strap myself there, maybe…
but too late
it blows
dusty white
next white walls, white blankets
we’re sharing a hospital bed, IVs
they bring a measly dinner tray
I give you my kraft macaroni and cheese.