The trunk of the jícaro is black,
its leaves small and feathery,
the gourds dry and useful,
each one a big
wingless bird shape
that can be carved into a bowl
or musical instrument.
The pomegranate is beautiful too,
with its gnarled wood, and jewel-like fruit.
When I sit down to read in the shade
of tree friends, I see a row of hammocks
and rocking chairs, but I prefer earth,
the natural home of growing roots
and rhymed verses.