The Gardener Manqué
The pines were planted plenty far apart.
A fool could tell they’d never fill the space,
But dreaming’s cheaper than a three-inch tree.
They would eventually, I was sure,
Outgrow the gallon pots I had them in;
And fill the space; survive the deer and out
Compete the weeds, the gophers eating up
Their roots, ground squirrels, skunks, and especially
An owner who’d forget to water them,
And who’d forget where they were planted when,
On rare occasions, he would mow the weeds
In that forgotten corner of the yard.
And still they suffer from that mindless fool.
In only thirty years, the trees
Are fully grown and overwhelm the space
They were allotted. How do you decide
Which tree to cut when you, for thirty years,
Have watched them grow from three-inch potted plants?