Plonk

Originally published: Nimrod International Journal, 2022

—For Peter Chan, at Herons Bonsai—

Watching bonsai clips on YouTube,
what stood out was not the bonsai.
Not the refinement of the brooms

and uprights, not the maples
or wisteria, the larch, the junipers,
the crowns of azaleas just coming

into buds. Not the seedlings finding sun
that spring, between the nursery’s pavers
and pea gravel. Instead it was this: plonk. 

As he shared how to pot small maples
he drew in the camera, and filled
a pot half full of medium and said now

you just take
the little seedling, and plonk
it in there. 

In went the tree, slightly
askew. No pomp. In
went another two

with the rustling of his hands
in the soil, his narration so distinct
with an accent here British

and there Chinese, his passion trees
with names like Hinoki and Deshojo—
the kinds of words one savors, as though

the seventh sense were mouthfeel.
And then this plonk to draw it all down
from altitude, as though to remind

that you too could do this—you
could plonk. That even your
small acts could take root

and branch out
into forms in which anyone
might one day see grace.