I’ve been studying the think and feel of the human brain.
The large walnut muscle with god inside.

There’s a walnut tree growing up against my house
giving the neighbors something to fuss about.

In about twenty years that’s going to cause
you problems, they say, looking serious and tall.

Maybe you’ll get lucky and have walnuts
says the man across the street who grows tomatoes.

I have a walnut growing another thought
that is if the squirrels don’t get it.

A walnut shell already in the back yard
already too empty as a shell might be empty.

Today I bought a radio and two rosemary bushes.
Turned on the radio, listened, put the plants on the ground

Until I find the shovel and the strength
to feel my thought of digging and fill.

Carol Ellis lives in Portland, Oregon. She has her Ph.D. in English from the University of Iowa. Her work can and will be found in ZYZZYVA, Comstock Review, The Cincinnati Review, Black Heart. Her chapbook is called I Want A Job. She spent time in Cuba writing another poetry manuscript.