Hymn to Necessity
With a chain saw and axe, we've spent a long
Morning cutting up a sycamore the storm
Brought down. For all twelve years we've lived here,
It has shaded over our kitchen window,
Upheld the various tire swings and feeders,
The candle-lit rice paper Japanese lanterns,
And even, on one occasion, one corner
Of a straw-hooped canopy for a wedding.
So borne in mind, we've come to find that,
Rinsing our dishes in the sink at lunch,
The clearing it leaves over-brims itself
And turns what's not there outside in,
But how good the sun feels in its absence,
And how like absence to surprise us this way.