Willow trees have 
shallow root systems.
They buckle sidewalks 
and destroy foundations
in search of water.

Their branches often root when they touch the ground
thanks to an insatiable thirst 
for surface level resources.

They are totems of expedience. 

Young people may read this poem 
and pity the old guy next door, 
who stoops
and shuffles
to the mailbox 
to pick up his flyers.

But that old guy? 
He can
fix things 
cook by instinct,
locate Orion in the dead of winter 
and roast his own coffee beans
(which friends, family and strangers come from far to enjoy).

He reads physical books 
(because he prefers his company in person)
and loves all manner of plant and tree – 
willows especially – 
who seem to enjoy the coffee 
more than most 
when they come over. 

It goes without saying 
that he discards the flyers
outright. 

JM.