the cameron tree

he planted it when
his arms and legs were small
because he was just a boy then
his hair blonde,
fingers tiny and damp
he held the seedling wrapped
in paper towel
and planted for the joy of digging

so limbs and branches unfold
over a decade – unfurling to fill
the house he is growing in
as roots lift tile and fir
branches touch the gutter, shade
the cat, who favors his back leg now

needles from the cameron tree are
everywhere
carried in the wind, or under slipshod feet
through the garden
through the house
across the driveway
to the street