my friend Abbey Freed Holden
is a poet
last night I sent this photo and told her it was a poem for her
she sent me back this:
Yoko Ono I wonder what her name means
all I hear is oneness.
Olive branch after olive branch.
I won’t say they
don’t grow knots
upon their boughs
get scars that show
they keep unfolding.
Until they touch
she didn't know that I was thinking about
the olive trees on the property
and was wanting to make a laurel wreath
I was wanting the leaves in the water to be olive leaves
(they are oak)
but no matter, even if they aren't