These Many Seasons

Betsy Joseph

June 2, 2024

In autumn

our towering fruitless mulberry stands

unleafing in the dark as if modestly 

bathing and releasing itself from the bondage

of weight that accompanies being the largest tree in the yard,

the expectations of providing shelter and shade

for its humans and a climbing dome

for the young boys and their friends,

and for supplying nesting crooks for squirrels.

In the winter

of our lives now, the mulberry and I

are still standing in spite of

an early summer house fire more than a decade past

that left us both feeling singed,

and in spite of tornadic storms that swiftly swirled,

kicking up limbs in a dizzying dance a few springs ago.

Among other companions,

it has taken a steady tree with a thick gnarled trunk

to ride out four decades, these many seasons with me

as we continue to age in place.

Betsy Joseph lives in Dallas and has poems which have appeared in a number of journals and anthologies. She is the author of two poetry books published by Lamar University Literary Press: Only So Many Autumns (2019) and most recently, Relatively Speaking (2022), a collaborative collection with her brother, poet Chip Dameron. In addition, she and her husband, photographer Bruce Jordan, have produced two books, Benches and Lighthouses, which pair her haiku with his black and white photography.