The Trees Bend Backward For You

Poetry and Photography Nina Koester

The trees bend backward for you, No. They grow towards the sun. Our son, she argued. Does it matter? He replied.

They grow from old, decrepit trunks deprived for long enough to die. Yet there must have been some light, some sign, To turn up towards the light and try

Again And again Each one faces another direction Angles acute, obtuse with stark, fatigued flexion

The time lapse we would need to observe such change and resurrection Does it matter that we missed the battle Or only that we witness him without insisting on correction