This next poem is a poem spoken by a father to his son.
Part of the poem is spoken directly by the father
to the son, and part of the poem is the father
speaking to himself--
its interior speech.
And the situation is that the father is teaching his son
how to prune fruit trees.
And the event of the poem is the father
giving his son instructions on how to prune an apple tree.
I'll try to indicate where the father is speaking out loud
and where he's speaking to himself in the way I
read the poem.
"Pruning Fruit Trees."
"Begin by cutting all branches away that are now dead.
It is March.
One surely feels in the air a softness
that has not yet arrived.
The cut must be made close to the parent limb
following the angle of its growth.
Used snow inches deep shows yesterday's boot-prints,
my son's and mine, circling each other, circling each tree.
Where equal branches now divide, choose one and cut--
it is not good that they contend for vital .
Sap the cut must be made close to the parent limb,
soon it will heal.
The chickadees scold us, by their feeder,
they have their rights.
Don't be afraid to cut--
that's it, cut more, it's good for the tree, lengthening life,
making its fruit full.
A farmer told me to talk to the trees.
Tell them, 'this is good for you.'
Speak softly.
Thank them.
It is June.
Our footprints faintly circle the trees in the moist grass.
Like little berries, the fruit is hard.
They will make it, they will hold on.
See, they will hold on, they will ripen, they will do well.
It is June .
I have learned to ask for nothing more.
I have never been happier than this.
Tell them they will do well.
As wind flutters their leaves, praise them.
It is March.
The cut must be made close to the parent limb.