Poetry by Miguel Rodríguez Otero
the tree at the back of my yard is scheduled
to be felled by the city in the coming days
its roots spread well into the wildflower patch
then outward and deep
eventually intersecting with fiber cables
my father planted it soon after i was born
in the black-and-whites he is digging a hole
while mom is breastfeeding me
half my life is scattered around this tree
playing fetch with dog
first cigarettes at night at the swing
the other half is buried
childhood thoughts and teenage obsessions
that have hidden away
inert like cables that intertwine with adult fears
which i always say i’ll unearth
and get rid of in the winter
but all of them – roots and fears –
have continued growing
the tree remains quiet
probably considering whether
to change colors and shed leaves
as if nothing was to happen
my feet are now restless
waiting for a sign
unsure how to say goodbye
to mom and dad
raising me away from fears
Miguel Rodríguez Otero’s poems appear in The Lake, Book of Matches, Red Fern Review, Wilderness House Literary Review, Scapegoat Review, Last Leaves Magazine, The Bluebird Word, DarkWinter Literary Magazine, and The Raven’s Perch. He likes walking country roads and is friends with a heron that lives in the marsh near his home.
