After class you would drag me with protest
to the empty cherry tree
to tend the ground there
once a week respectfully
you would speak to me
of the carrot-headed sister
just me with my feet as solemnly
you would stroke the ground
to tuck her into her
silten sheets some six feet deep
with the lights that passed before you
could afford to mark the ground beneath the cherry tree
i learned to wait in your sheets and seats
and dig my teeth deep into my knees
to dam the creeks above these ruddy cheeks that betray me
now you signed your name across the space beside her
and tend the ground where you will lay apart from everything
but your carrot-headed daughter beneath that cherry tree
eternally
