Thomas Ponder – a poem by Colette Tennant

Thomas Ponder					

I call the old Doug Fir out back
Thomas Ponder.
Ever since the Valentine’s Day
ice storm took two branches,
others hang there like nursemaid elbows.

His spine is as straight 
as it can be, although his crown
leans toward my bedroom,
tilting his cap to my dreams.

When I hear him laugh some nights,
is he tossing old moons
over his shoulders
like spilled salt?
	
One Christmas, 
a charm of hummingbirds
shimmered his length, 
little carolers,
candles at the back door.

He’s also a flirt – that Thomas Ponder.
His northern branches stroke
the neighbor’s Blue Spruce,
southern branches
dingle dangle the red maple.
Eastern branches wink at the rising sun;
western branches blow kisses to the night hawk.

North winds lift his remnant of green 
like syncopated praise,
like call and response.
You’re a shimmery old holy roller,
that’s what you are, Thomas Ponder.

Colette Tennant is an English professor. She has two books of poems: Commotion of Wings and Eden and After. Her poems have won various awards and have been included in many journals, including Poetry Ireland Review, The Fish Anthology, Prairie Schooner, Rattle, and others. In 2019, upon the request of a national press, she wrote Religion in The Handmaid’s Tale: a Brief Guide to coincide with Atwood’s publication of The Testaments. She has also taught art in Great Britain, Germany, and Italy.