By Mary Lou Griggs © 2017
Just a sprout off his mum. Needles sharp.
Takes awhile, years, we’re told, to branch out.
Slow… To… Grow… Oh! To be big as mum.
Teenager saguaro, still unarmed.
Standing tall. Wants to wave, yet cannot.
Just waiting for the time to bear arms.
Years of sun? Two-forty. Day is done.
These old bones sound eerie in the wind.
Time to rest. Return to Mother Earth.