Poem for December

Tilia cordata

First notice this:

I spiraled

into your heart,

then dropped

to your feet.

Now pick me up.

Bag me in a 50:50 mix

sharp sand to compost.

Place me in deep dormancy

first warm, no less than 680

for sixteen weeks, then chill me

for sixteen more at 390.

Be patient those eight months;

love takes time to root

in the substrate of life.

Do not forget me waiting

in your fridge,

harnessing my potential

to send down a radical,

push up a shoot, with two

fresh-from-seed

cotyledenous leaves.

Smile at me.

I will you.

I might have germinated

in the bag – or might not

– either way plant me

in a carefully chosen pot.

Wait for me

to stretch high,

become your oh so sweet

Linden love

and allow me to pluck

the cords of your heart.