For Tom

Aspen trees, symmetrically
Growing along an Upstate property
Catch the mistral-like winds,
Wave their leaves like celebratory

Sparklers, their silvered, shimmered
Undersides catching the light to
Twinkle in our dulled eyes and applaud
Respite from the dry July heat.

It’s confetti-like shimmy is uncannily like
That of the Eiffel Tower, on that nail-
Biting first night, when we all
Wondered if the world would

End, as we do now, locked down
On our porches looking for ways to
Quietly memorialize all that we
Neglected, took for granted,

And lost.