Tuesday Poem: Palm Trees in a Hotel Garden

Palm Trees in a Hotel Garden
... palms fan out
their fingers on the night glass
like starving children
- Susan Wicks

We stand against dark skies.
Behind a transparent wall
unnatural day where strange trees
on forked roots come and go
bearing translucent fruit
beaded with drops of water.
Sometimes they lift it
to their crowns. They are
shifting groves of many colours.
And one slumps low,
rakes his boughs
across a bank of white and black
releasing a flock
of invisible birds.

We wonder how it is
to be so rootless
not to know
those same old familiars
are always by your side.
We fan out our fingers
on the night glass
in invitation:
“sink your roots in soil
lift your branches to the cool air
always and forever
not alone.”

© Catherine Fitchett

"Palm Trees in a Hotel Garden" was first published in Takahe magazine, issue 78, earlier this year. It originated in a class by Joanna Preston, in response to the poem by Susan Wicks from which the quote at the beginning is taken.

The blog has been very quiet lately, as I have had other things keeping me busy. But with National Poetry Day fast approaching, it seemed like a good time to come back to posting a Tuesday Poem.