NaPoWriMo 22 – a Georgic

Pruning the apple

It’s a winter job –

When the soul of the tree

Is curled deep in the roots – 

A slow job, of pauses,

Consideration, judicious.

A job calling for thought, and tea,

Stepping back, thinking twice,

Cutting once. Not a hatchet job,

Not at all. A coaxing and nudging,

Encouraging growth. You must

Think of a goblet, a chalice,

Designed to hold sunlight,

The warmth poured in,

Weaving its magic.

It’s more of an art

Than a science. 

Be patient.

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