Explosive, it arrived
just after we had gone to bed.
Sleep was underway.
I sat up, startled into wakefulness.
What was that? I said.
Groggily, he turned to me,
saying, I know what that was.
And told me that, years ago,
he had been working on a house
situated amidst Norfolk pine trees,
like those that ring our property now.
He had been doing something
to the house’s exterior
when he heard the same sound—
Crack! Like that great glob
of cobalt glass in our window
suddenly shattering.
And there they were, small seeds,
scattered everywhere. Everywhere.
In the morning I walked out.
As I do.
The grass, flowerbeds, shrubs,
small trees—
all now possessed
more than a few
pinecone offspring.
All Chris could say was,
what an amazing way
for a species to spread its seed!
No guns required.