What never grew to light

past the established trees?

Each sapling in its supple bark

housed untold contingencies

of structure and song

and amassed tough lignin

against burnished blades,

fungi, beetles, teeth, and age;

but life is so quick to our eyes;

so I or my children might

this hour rejoin

the fallow joy

that fuels the earth.

Sarah M. Brownsberger has published her poems in Field, Salamander, Alaska Quarterly Review, the Hudson Review, and OnEarth. She works as an Icelandic-English translator specializing in poetry, fiction, and art criticism.

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Published in the May 1, 2015 issue: View Contents
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