Black Poplars Whereas we are of here, and have been from the start, our cages made of hearts, and in our heartwood chest we carry manuscripts of psalms they used to sing though we remember only Cut me green and keep me dry. We number but a thousand yet we can raise our voice above a whisper when there’s need, and “no other native tree can compare” the man said, whose production of leaves was above average. Energy is our theme. We watch the runners pass, the rowers and racers, and know Zeus punished that chariot-driver, but rewarded his siblings…