Monday Morning Poetry, July 17

Sassafras

Is this not a word waiting for a poem,

like a young girl in love waiting for a song?

 

But how does one sing about an aromatic tree

not noted for any particular, astonishing beauty?

 

But let not this defect stop the poet’s pen

from honoring the sounds of sassafras.

 

Both the tongue and heart delight in its utterance

to such a degree they wish, truly wish, they could dance.

 

Robert Morneau