Excerpts from The Axis Mundi Poems.
And Yet You Were a Leaf*
Frost on the grass miniature blades press each other against the ice, the lake closes under a white skin the fish hide but, the trees are as they have always been, bare, so naked to the snow.
Title from “A Woman Mourned by Daughter,” by Adrienne Rich.
Which Of These Forms Have You Taken*
This year I have been growing down into the tree against my will making nothing happen. Across the woods through the bare branch haze of bars against the light someone is coming with an axe. I have known this all my life. *Title from “A Soul, Geologically,” by Margaret Atwood, in Selected Poems.