Mom Stands Where the Orchard Stood<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
There was this one tree that did not go down. It was the last
\nof Matson\u2019s orchard. I was four years old, standing next to Mom.
\nWe\u2019d been out all day with errands and returned home
\nto find the apple trees gone. A man pushed them into piles,
\neven those my mother had marked with pink tape.
\nAnd he would\u2019ve knocked down the last one had we not
\ncome home and had Mom not dropped her groceries
\nright there behind the garage and gone to the field and stood
\nwith her hands on her hips until the man noticed her
\nand shut down his tractor. He came over long enough
\nto hear her say, You were supposed to leave
\nthose trees. I marked them. His face was covered in dirt
\nand wet with perspiration. His brow lined into a question.
\nMom\u2019s face was cool and dry. Leave this tree, please. There is this one tree
\nacross the right of way from the house that still grows apples,
\nstill shades her children and grandchildren. Each year wild,
\nunpruned branches drop fruit like it\u2019s nothing, like it is not alone.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Dan Peters<\/a> teaches English at Yakima Valley Community College. Since 2010, Peters has been the co-editor of Blue Begonia Press,<\/a> a publisher of poetry and fine literature. His own books, published by Jim and Karen Bodeen, former editors at Blue Begonia, include, Down the Road the Children Go<\/em> (2009), The Reservoir<\/em> (2002), and the chapbook, In the Easement of Absent Ties<\/em> (1998).<\/a> Peters lives in Selah with his wife and two children.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Mom Stands Where the Orchard Stood There was this one tree that did not go down. It was the last of Matson\u2019s orchard. I was four years old, standing next to Mom. We\u2019d been out all day with errands … Continue reading