Eavesdropping on Absence

by Laurie Klein

Begin with the wound—

a seeping willow, post-squall:

the tree in its wisdom conceives

an outgrowth, enveloping

harm, each burl singular 

as a human scar. Slow, covert

as the bloom of grain, homely

atonement emulates the passage

of water. Each inner knot

is a reckoning isle, fissured,

as we are, afloat and darkly apt

to split under pressure—one more

body born of the doomed bud,

as pain fires up another lathe.

Steel versus wood, the chisel,

turning away the unneeded, conjures

form, censes the sorrowful air:

sachet, reawakened, ignites

whimsy. See the silhouette frills

of Flannery’s peacock?

Algae’s watered silk, adorning

a pond, the soul’s lancet window?

A burl. A bowl. Carving

a tacit, resinous prayer:

absence, burnished for service.

                        With thanks to JWL

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Laurie Klein is the author of Where the Sky Opens (Poeima/Cascade). A multiple Pushcart nominee and Merton Prize-winner, she lives in the Pacific Northwest.