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Memorial Trees
They stood tall with their feet
planted deep in wells
that perforated sidewalks.
Strong and straight like soldiers
marching in holiday parade,
each one hid a story of its past.
Some were fir, or were they pine,
who never spoke their tales
except when night descended.
When gaslights began to dim
and store clerks locked the doors,
it's then we heard them gossip.
"Private Ironwood, handpicked,
to carry telegraphic wires
reaching every compass point
Sergeant Miller on the corner
of Leary Way and Cleveland
flew the regimental ensigns.
Major Forrest by the mailstop,
a car collided with his mooring,
left him ever so slightly tilted.
Captain Birdsong came to town
on the Lake Shore's daily train
from a mill in Bonner, Idaho."
When morning's milk arrived
they put aside their chitchat --
standing proudly at attention,
silent witnesses to progress.
From the poet:
The title was suggested by my mother during a drive north on Des Moines Way right after it was renamed to Des Moines Memorial Drive in the mid-1960s. She meant it as a wise crack, referring to the evenly spaced leafless softwood alternatives to the many leafy hardwood (deciduous) trees beside the road. I'm not sure the utility company would be amused but I kept the joke in my head for years until I finally found a use for it.
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