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
wouldn’t I
Well, a stately receding row
of ancient oaks
with mown lawns and a pond of swans
would —
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?