The Cherry Tree and the Sheep
I’m not sure why I was disappointed.
To learn the pink double blossoms
I worship each spring were cloned,
like Dolly the Sheep. Well, not exactly,
but created by humans fiddling
with nature the way broccoli
comes from wild cabbage.
Already enamored by wild cherry trees,
the Japanese pursued perfection through
powder-puff clusters laden with petals.
It was four hundred years ago,
long before anyone dreamed of the phone
in my hands taking picture after picture,
so I can share this breathtaking beauty
in an instant with a thousand friends.
Where is the line between loving what humans
can do and fearing Frankenstein?
Another worry to push from my mind
as I stand on a manicured lawn
inhaling creation on a bright spring day
while wildfires rage in the distance.
Is it Time to Eat Dessert First?
My granddaughter samples her plate
then saves what tastes best for last.
I admire her self-control
to end her meals with what pleases the most.
But I worry if this is akin to the silk dress
in my closet, saved for a special occasion
that has yet to arrive.
Cleaning out my father’s house
I found three packages
of unopened underwear.
What was he waiting for?
Important guests, like my great aunt
and her plastic-covered couch?
With wildfires, bird flu,
and who knows what
war on the horizon,
the world feels ablaze.
No longer a place
where it’s safe
to eat dessert last.
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