They say you’re an odd duck working magic slightly backwards.
They say your leaves sprout from the sides and shade the shoreline
instead of the front where they can bask in the clear morning.
I say you’re a sorceress skillfully working what magic you have
like a seed carried across the river in the hands of a joking squirrel.
I say the roots you plant are as strong as those you leave behind
even though the sun shines differently and your branches twist
ever so slightly south instead of north to reach the sunlight.
They joke that at this rate you’ll be losing leaves before the rest,
but I say those leaves are better left floating downstream anyways.



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