Wish for it. Sit still beneath the boughs
of the tree you read about, in books,
mapped out and eulogized in the east.
Let it fill with rain, then snow, water talk,
rivers flow into other rivers with names like
life-blood of god, endless curls of the beloved,
sappy spring rising through branches,
just like water makes pathways through earth,
it should […]

So much like the bending bare branches
of the tree, early January,
it’s hard to hide much
in winter.
In secret, someone writes my name
in black ink, over and over again,
and runs it beneath water.
I am born, and fade. It goes on like this.
This liturgy of the hours.
I left my journal in someone else’s bed
with drawings of trees, quotes […]