you can train the trees he says
as a pair of garden shears take hold
and snip the lengthened limbs that stretch toward the house
guided not in
but up and out
the branches will follow
and I stand eyes fixed up from below
arms raised high above my head to steady the ladder
his feet find balance in
and I wonder
what would have happened if those synapses hadn’t been pruned?
would the evergreens still grow or reach new heights
had they not been subject to their sapling surroundings and watchful eye of the gardener?
what would I become if left up to nature's desire
unaffected by the calculated, planned attendance of the caretaker
would that fate still take root?