Pruning
By Johanna Herrick

I prune my lime tree under the luminous moon of early evening. The citrus smell of broken leaves is pungent and wonderful. I know the cutting will make the tree stronger, more beautiful. It trusts me and responds to the pain, for already, even the order of shaping has produced a different mood for us; the discarded sprigs on the ground ring the tree like a variegated lime lei, my offering to this faithful tree, my promise that things will change between us.