Sam Rush

TO SAVE THEM BOTH

I learned to run a chainsaw with seven

men I’d seen feel
the undersides of leaves

behold & whisper poplar at the light

that shakes silver
then green in the breeze

taught me to watch the sky throw mare’s

tails or lenticular dishes across itself

& foresee weeping with all that thunder

and find safety inside
walls we’d asked from trunks

that cradle our undersides

& whisper small

the crab apple outside the office

fell to men who spent

their days inside it

engine teeth & this power

new in their hands april budding

limbs spread across the parking lot

another mess for someone else

to clean up someone whose time

is worth less paper

the office now sharp

against the sky a grey hollow

as if the tree once hid the way

the building refused to flower

as if it bloomed soft & pink

to save them both 􏰓􏰎􏰔􏰍 􏰕􏰖􏰒􏰒􏰗 􏰘􏰙􏰚􏰙􏰛􏰎􏰑􏰖􏰐 􏰖􏰕 􏰎􏰓􏰙 􏰜􏰖􏰖􏰐 􏰝􏰑􏰘􏰎􏰗 􏰜􏰑􏰘