Names of Trees   Eve mentioned that she’d seen a tree. You’ve told me exactly nothing, Adam replied, at which they both fell silent. Then Eve sighed, We’ll need more words, then — words enough to hold the world. We’ll say I saw an oak, an old one, tall, stately. No, wait, she said, I lied — it was a maple, a beauty, the pride of the forest — its leaves were turning gold. Soon Adam was in on the game. Let’s say it was a pine, he said, or a hemlock or a beech, or a birch, or something part linden, part apple. This went on all day till their garden was a thicket of talk, and this is where our disenchantment starts.     © Michael Fleming Brattleboro, Vermont November 2021