We mourned the felling of the old walnut
tree, having no choice in the matter,

the decision of unseen higher-ups
in his condo community.

One of us took photos of the other
atop the remaining stump, and one of us

cried when she came back to find it
ground into shreds. But we were cheered

when one day someone planted what
seemed to be a skeletal shrub, without

identification. Dendrophiles that we are,
we consulted a plant lady friend

three states away who declared it
a crepe myrtle. So Myrtle she became,

though apparently she’s monoecious,
with both male and female parts.

The question became: What color is she?
Not expecting blossoms her first year,

we figured we’d live in the mystery for
some time. But she has sprouted, well,

sprouts on the ends of her luscious leaves
that looked as if they might be wee buds.

And yesterday, we swear, within hours
after we checked, we got our answer:

Myrtle has baby white blossoms
popping out already. We’d hoped for

a showy deep pink, but as with any
offspring, you get what you get.

And you love them no matter what,
our precocious girl. Top of her class,

we imagine as proud foster parents, one
of us who regularly waters her, even before

sprinklers were installed, which now shower
her with silver sparkles in late afternoon

light, this new neighbor who, we hope,
will outlast us for many summers to come.

•••

• dendrophile: one who loves trees

• monoecious (muh-NEE-shus): having both male
and female reproductive organs on the same plant.