My wife and I planted this gingko as a one-year whip.  Now it drops a carpet of whoooooosh like this.  I wrote this poem alongside this yearly blanket.

I also include this GoogleNotebook podcast analysis if that helps you “witness”.

 

Larger Care

All the shove and thrust,
Jam and crush,
Of stuff I walk past,
All seek my approbation
but censure me
after I am out of earshot
for not taking
larger care.

I am grateful
for their bad-mouthing,
for having even been considered by them,
things often far older
than my seventy years.

How can I possibly catch up
with their lives?
Tea and skittles?
A coffee klatsch?
I can’t.

I wither
under the penalty
of their unbending eye.
I ask myself,
“Can I change this futurity
from the inside out?”

Only for awhile
Until the sonnet turns.