If I were to choose a background
for our family photo
that crusty old stand of knobby knees
wouldn’t be it.
I’d put us in front of a graceful row
of Tuscan cypress
by an ancient marble fountain
Well, a stately receding row
of ancient oaks
with mown lawns and a pond of swans
Those pines were old fifty years ago
dark, scarred, leaned by the wry west wind.
We stand on their sienna needles and cones.
Would you take the picture now, please?