Uneven in a Sugar Orchard Poem

Sweet Engineers of Life

In the old neighborhood
cemetery, there live
four maple trees, super-sized
like Don Bear’s doorway—he lives
just down an artery
connecting the heritage
village with the mall.
Every year he spikes
a spigot in each tree,
suspends an urn under each,
scaring up sap that runs
from melt time to whenever.
Spiriting off the solvent,
he crafts a syrup he sells
dearly to passersby.
One day a planner named Calvin
purchases a pint,
conveying it home to pour
over his instant oatmeal.
Swearing it’s the most righteous
stuff he’s ever tasted,
Calvin pours some more.

~Son Rivers 2006