On the car radio, I hear
an update on the Caldor Fire,
but instead of images
of exploding trees, melting cars,
lives and homes destroyed,
my mind sees a childhood path,
a wooded bank on the South Fork
of the American River, a forest
alive with deer, squirrels,
snakes, jays, trout-filled pools,
cousins in jeans and sneakers
and memories of
The first pine tree!
My mother invented a game
to keep me and my sister and brothers
from picking at each other
as we rode crammed in the back seat
during an afternoon drive to the Sierras.
She told us whoever saw the first pine tree
was to shout out I see the first pine tree!
but not to say a word until then.
The game kept us quiet for quite a while
as there was a long stretch of road
between Sacramento and Kyburz
before pines began to appear.
Although there was no prize,
I can still taste the glee of winning,
of being first, of being for a minute safe,
untouchable.
M.S. Rooney lives in Sonoma, California with poet Dan Noreen. Her work appears in journals, including The Blue Mountain Review, Hole in the Head Review, Leaping Clear and Pensive Journal and anthologies, most recently Alchemy and Miracles (Cassandra Arnold, Editor). Her work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize.
