Last month, walking on Wildcat Creek Trail near where I live in the San Francisco Bay Area, I spotted this pair of bay trees by the side of the path.
I was quite taken with them and later wrote the persona poem below. (In persona poems, poets write from the point of view of someone or something other than themselves.) Though it didn’t make it into the poem, I think of that bright red leaf on the right as a heart.
Bay Couple
we reside
alongside the wide path
where we hear talk
of the narrow paths above
with city and bay views,
bay like our name,
but we are solid,
only the sharp smells of our leaves flow
unlike that other bay
that we understand to flow
with vast amounts of water, the rain stuff
many pass us by on the wide path
jackrabbits, coyotes,
mule deer, turkeys,
garter snakes, foxes,
the occasional mountain lion,
hawks and vultures, high above,
the small flittering birds,
who land lightly on our branches
to rest or build nests in our bends
and grow their young
mostly in the light hours
humans travel the wide path too,
all sorts of humans, in their bright coverings,
some speeding by on objects called bicycles,
some walking singly or in packs of all sizes
and sometimes a couple of them
stop nearby
they speak in tones, low as a far wind,
then quiet like the time
after the owls and before the crows
and tangle their limbs together
in close connection, called a hug
but few stop to notice
that I have tangled my limbs with older bay,
over these many years,
older bay, who once leaned into
another bay, now long gone,
in this time, these days, these seasons
we two intertwine our twigs,
rooted here, alongside of the wide path
© Karin Fisher-Golton, 2024
Find links to more poetry for Poetry Friday at Tricia Stohr-Hunt’s The Miss Rumphius Effect blog where she writes about pantoum poems, shares one herself, and has links to those by others in her group—plus many links to other poems. I love pantoums, and though I’m not sharing one here, it strikes me that my bay friends’ tangled limbs are reminiscent of pantoum stanza’s tangled lines.
Karin Fisher-Golton 
This is just beautiful–two tangled trees. I love the title because it has a surprising meaning.
Thank you! I like titles that are deepened in the poem.
Oh, I was so drawn into this relationship — thank you. It’s beautiful.
I’m glad to hear you were drawn to it too! Thank you for coming by.
Your poem reminded me of a recent visit to the Bay Area to see my son. We walked a trail along a ridge in Pacifica with those incredible views. I enjoyed reading from the perspective of these two trees, imagining what they see. “We two intertwine our twigs/rooted here alongside of the wide path.”
Thank you! We are so lucky to have those views here. I like thinking that bay tree would have heard people talking about the views. This pair is by the creek, so in a valley.
It’s a strong and somber voice, Karin, from this bay couple, and I love how much it notices, unlike those about which it whispered “but few stop to notice”. There are secrets all around us that we might never learn of. Your imagination shows what might be awesome to learn.
Thanks! I was thinking about those ideas too. I wonder how many people have noticed this delightful pair. It was fun to think about how much there was to be noticed from that one rooted spot.
Thank you! It was fun to consider how trees might think about times of day.
Beautiful! It almost feels like a love poem. I especially like thinking about the quiet time “after the owls and before the crows.” Thank you!
Thank you! I do think it feels like a love poem–though certainly with a twist (or tangle). I loved thinking about how trees might mark time.
Karin, so lovely. I can appreciate the young bay knowing it has the same name as the rain place. Not omniscient, but thinking of things important to it. The noticing the hugging of the humans and the then the way it hugs the older bay is just delightful. I love reading that list of animals that walks by it! Wow, what a neat place. Very nice persona poem, and I hope it inspires me to try one.
Thanks so much! I really enjoyed thinking about the bay’s perspective–and part of that was imagining all the animals it might see go by and also spend time on its branches. I’m so glad you’re inspired to write a persona poem!
The voice you gave these trees sounds perfectly…TRUE.
That’s wonderful to read. Thank you.
Karin, I love this poem. A favorite bit is this…
then quiet like the time
after the owls and before the crows
and tangle their limbs together
…plus that entire gorgeous final stanza. Thank you.
Thanks so much, Laura! Considering how a bay tree might mark times of day was possibly my favorite of many sweet parts about writing that poem.
I love the point of view of this bay tree. I can imagine the scent. Love all the animals that come by. (I think I fixed the link problem on the progressive poem. Thanks for letting me know.)
Thank you, Margaret! I like that you can imagine the scent, it’s so distinctive and a happy association I have with local hikes. Thanks for fixing the link on the progressive poem too!