Magnolia, a Poem

Magnolia

Waxy, thick expensive leaves,
An identifying mark,
In their newness,
A fuzzy brown found underneath,
As the Pine,
You hold onto this investment,
And play not in autumn's array.
Those white flowers,
With that signature smell,
Of southern afternoon sweetness,
Takes me from these California shores,
Back home and into memory,
Where cousins were whipped,
For climbing your sister's limbs,
She being planted,
By grandmother long passed.
Once flower faded away,
Seeds are dropped,
Not far from the origin,
A blazing hope of continuation,
Bouncing at our feet,
Or clamoring about our head,
The elder casting,
A shade of protection,
Along the path we walk,
On our way.