Only Certain Patterns of Fire

will break seed at the mother root.

One scalded bead stains the xeric chaparral.

One infant panicle bursts from the ash—

broken lines of mineral estate 

surging up the stem— 

in trance to resurrection breeding.

The indeliberate land cools.

See this for what it is not: 

no such thing as a dead tree, 

no ending of anything

but the time we dare to waste.

—Postcards for the Environment (Tea Roots, 2024)