Sometimes all the trees of the world come together for a meeting.
I first heard about this from Bob in Brooklyn.
Live Oaks agonize over the endless drought.
Saguaros, weary of being shot at from the highway, couldn’t care less.
The Lone Cypress of Monterey is sick of being photographed.
Lebanon Cedars and Giant Sequoias dominate the sessions, one reason why
the Sri Maha Bodhi couldn’t make it last time, politely sent regrets.
Baobabs are poorly represented, and Palms sit in the back,
whispering in their ancient language.
The Bonsai are considered little more than a fringe group.
Nobody has heard from the Rain Forest in years.
Scrub Pines continue working on the slavery thing, and Elms
would rather live in tranquil obscurity on a street not named after them.
In lighter moments, they all reminisce on the heyday of the Great Chestnuts,
before Asian bark fungus took over.
Minutes are recorded and proceedings published, but the agenda is
usually too vague and nothing is ever really accomplished.
Another failed summit; I don’t know how to break it to Bob.
Theodore Bale is a critic, musician and journalist in Houston, Texas. His writing has appeared in Houston Chronicle, Boston Herald, Cambridge Chronicle, Dance International, ART LIES: A Contemporary Arts Quarterly, Contact Quarterly, Bay Windows, Dance Chronicle, and other publications. He is the author of the blog, Texas, a Concept, published online by Arts Journal.