He gathered them, walking to school - 

rounded, rotund, mahogany grained

with a nipple end and jaunty cap

the green babies connected by a fan stem

delivered daily by the cool, slim hand of an

angry boy with murderous music

screaming at him all day - 

pale gaunt gore reveler,

solemn insomniac.

No, she could not meet with him then.

No, he could not come after school,

but the morning would work.

She found him and a few minutes.

He hadn't written, but agreed to,

his strange blue eyes entreating help

negated by the disapproving mouth, 

further betrayed by his respectful handshake.

The tiny seeds offered day after day

were an homage to promised growth.

One ring at a time, without notice, 

a sapling becomes a towering oak,

shelter to others in need.