On the Brink of Disaster

RENÉ SALDAÑA, JR.

May 17, 2020

on this cold winter morning

the ground underfoot feels brittle

the brown leaves crackle under my weight

the sky is overcast on my long walk

the clouds sag heavy and gray

there is nothing left of the peach tree

but the bones of bare branches

reaching upward, a stretching yawn caught

midway

there is a nest there, too, hidden away,

made from sticks intertwined,

the hint of a string holding it all together

below it,

a mottled branch has cracked

the matter is not so grave

as it would be had it been

late spring / early summer, though

a fruit-bearing branch will snap off

lean its entire weight on the branches

below

I will have to remember later

to take a saw to it, though there is

an old branch from previous break

lying a few feet away

which I meant to cut into firewood

I crouch under the tree,

squirm my way to where the break is

looking at it close up, I can see

the break is not so dire

the branches poke me

on the cheek, my shoulder, my side

no, it can be fixed without a saw

that old branch will do

I shove it under the other branch—

the broken one—a buttress

it’ll do

it’ll have to do

I step out from under the tree

in this cold the scratch on my face

burns but the branch will be okay now,

the tree, too

I take a gulp of cold air

I let it out

I shove my hands in my pockets

and turn to walk away

spring’s around the corner

I can’t wait to pull the first peach

RENÉ SALDAÑA, JR. is an associate professor of Language, Diversity, and Literacy Studies in the College of Education of Texas Tech University. He is the author of several books for young adults and children, among them The Jumping Tree, A Good Long Way, and Heartbeat of the Soul of the World. His poems have appeared or are scheduled to appear in The English Journal, The Big Windows Review, and Inkwell Literary Review.