Late Bloomers

 

Walnut trees stand, a solemn maze of empty branches, 

bloom buried in woody limbs.

Wedged between almond orchards, 

heady pink blossoms fueling spring fever.

Humans & insects dismiss these bare plantings.

Walnuts linger, hold winter vestiges like an old lover.

Awkward tree, odd bloom cycle, produces stems, pinnated leaflets,

Tenderly, hidden in leather husks, walnuts will grow.

 

I’m reminded of my son’s limbs, twisting wildly in space,

struggles to move, to express himself.

Quicker males, ones picked for teams

dart by, ignore simple words stumbling out.

Perplexed, he finds a nearby swing to fly away.

His journey, slow, experience, a talisman to pocket.

Awkward adult, oddly blooming, navigates life with small steps.

Tenderly, hiding his scars, he too, will grow.

 

 

June 26, 2021