Apricity Press Issue 2 March 2017 - Page 60

THE TREE MEG BOYLES

after “The Bee” by Henri Cole

I did not

expect to meet

this tree today,

not her green

trunk—weirdly

green, must be

some kind

of mold—and

the growth

circled around

her, like hips. I

did not plan this

awful desire,

like being

moonstruck near

the ocean.

I did not think

this tree

would make me

remember water.

I’d like

to skim my

fingers against

her shore,

want to whisper

against her

skin, I am proud

of you for holding

on. I am trying to,

too.