Trees of Three

While living in Bonita,

my parents were fond of islands,

not the kind surrounded by water

but by grass, islands of

flowers, shrubs, and trees.

These islands began forming

the day my dad brought home

three cabbage palms.

We planted them

in a triangle.

Only one palm survived

the transplanting.

Dad claimed it was 

due to a lack of water

that the other two died.

I protested that the two dead palms

had as much water as the living one.

A few days later

Dad showed up

with three more cabbage palms,

and we planted them

in another part of the yard.

Like the first island of palms,

two died but not of thirst;

I made doubly sure!

My Dad must have heard

that three's the charm.

A week later we attempted

one more island of cabbage palms

in yet another part of the yard.

This time two palms made it!

While I lived there

other islands surfaced

in the sea of grass

but never a cabbage palm island.

Dad finally treated that idea 

like poison ivy -

trees of three, let it be.