To write a poem,
they say, you must seek a beautiful
moment, at least one a day, so I walk
into some parking lot landscaping
& hug a Japanese Maple—force the issue;
play at fables & go deeper into the woods
but the Twisted Orange Tree is spikey & low
to the ground, so I kneel because its ok
to grovel for a taste of that sweet thing
you’re begging after; if it could my need
would burst—a Flowering Dogwood—or lie
naked—like Kentucky Coffee trees.
My face in the wooded mirror house
of a Bald Cypress; the ground turns from leaf dust
to moss & mold & the greener grass of discontent
lies waiting, Common Persimmons perfume the air,
Red Horse chestnuts lob shadows & hold the chill,
dead tulips haunt a circle of Tupelo trees
short enough to climb, wide enough to hide behind.
I stare into this beautiful moment; where trees
aren’t burning & the sky isn’t crying white phosphorous
onto families in tents on the streets & the pm count
is under 50 & no attack drones buzz across
the spring sky & no ICE agents lurk around the bend.
About the poem: This poem came out of a walk I took at the campus where I teach. I needed to get away from the news cycle and the doom scrolling, so I took my time getting to know all the trees. Still, the world was right there when I got back to it.
Roberto Carlos Garcia is a 2023 NJ State Council of the Arts Fellow. He is the author of five books, including four poetry collections—Melancolía (Cervena Barva Press, 2016); black / Maybe: An Afro Lyric (Willow Books, 2018); [Elegies] (FlowerSong Press, 2020); and the recently published What Can I Tell You: The Selected Poems of Roberto Carlos Garcia (Flowersong Press, 2022)—and one essay collection, Traveling Freely, (Northwestern University Press / Curbstone Books, 2024). Roberto is the founder of Get Fresh Books Publishing, a literary nonprofit.