Local News
And in today’s ridiculous news,
a snow tree has sprouted and grown overnight
in what used to be the parking lot
of the shuttered mini-mall on East Boulevard,
enormous, white trunk as wide as a bus is long
enormous, white canopy of interwoven branches
towing above the roofs of what pass for high-rises here
above the housing projects and the new condos
almost touching the clouds.
And the neighborhood has promptly divided into two camps:
those who want to chop it down
and those who want to climb it
and they’re milling around
some with axes, some with ropes,
shouting at each other
The local grands have called in
reinforcement grannies from neighboring towns
to keep the two groups apart
The children are mostly delighted by this sudden wonder
emerging in the middle of slow summer
but you shake your head
sit with your back to the window
wrap your arms around yourself
saying, How can I feel safe in a world
where things like this can happen?
But these things have always happened
everywhere
the only difference is this time
it’s literally close to home
and you can’t pretend
that you haven’t noticed
I understand the fear, I do
I can feel it, too, underneath the jokery
but there is joy as well:
A tree made of snow,
tremendous, unmelting
is awful and awesome at once
Half of the grannies are grinning through their scolding
And if you look now, just peek between your fingers
you might be able to catch a glimpse
of tomorrow’s ridiculous news
flying in against the wind:
White birds with streaks of silver on their wings
and the look of homecoming in their eyes.
Patricia Russo’s work has appeared in One Art, The Sunlight Press, Vagabond City, The Twin Bird Review, Apple in the Dark, Revolution John, and Metachrosis Literary.
