Cedars on Bluffs at Table Rock Lake
Trolling the shoreline in a jon boat,
you will see these flaggy stones,
time stacked, rain pitted, lightning cracked
slabs of limestone holding in place
craggy bluffs that rise cantilevered
into the hills, clutching in clefts and crannies
scrub cedars arching toward the light,
their taproots divining a few droplets
of moisture to leech from the porous stones.
More bush than tree and dry as bones
in a desert, tendrils splay over rocks
and twine into knots as big as your fist
as though uncertain of a foothold.
Thirst their only lifeline.
James Green is a retired university professor and administrator. He divides his time between his home in Muncie, Indiana, and Mae Hong Son, Thailand, where he serves as a volunteer with the Jesuit Refugee Service. You may learn about his poetry at his website, www.jamesgreenpoetry.net