by Mary B. Moore The volunteer pin oak is straight and narrow. I’m not, though at one point, I tried.

The foliage simmers or shivers, airs itself out, and the round leaf-scales, which join and branch, make each stem a flat little tree: a tree of trees.

I’m tired today and blue to boot. Nothing buoys me, yesses my no’s. Even the cardinal on the fence, a dusky girl, isn’t all red like cardinal boys

I’m tired today and blue to boot. Nothing buoys me, yesses my no’s. Even the cardinal on the fence, a dusky girl, isn’t all red like cardinal boys

Susan O'Dell Underwood taught creative writing and Appalachian literature at Carson-Newman University for 33 years. Her novel, Genesis Road, won the Tennessee Arts Commission Grant. Besides two chapbooks of poetry, she has published two full-length collections, The Book of Awe (Iris Press, 2018) and Splinter (Madville Publishing, 2023). Her poems, short fiction, and essays can be found in a variety of journals and anthologies, including Ecotone, Oxford American, and A Literary Field Guide to Southern Appalachia. She is married to artist David Underwood and lives in East Tennessee.