Out at the Root

Shore pine on the sea cliff,

perennial axletree on which

stars wheel—waves of the highest

 

high tide have half-unearthed

its hold. The intricate rootwork

that like sight of the covenant’s ark

 

none should know, hangs exposed:

rainwashed, rope-thick roots scaffold

the vacancy where cliff was, and ends

 

of ripped rhizome, thread-thin,

pulse droplets like rosaries broken

continually. The upper canopy un-greens

 

needle by needle; the low notched

branch-ends interlock to gnash

in wind. Even its sudden hush is a harsh

 

suspension between constellation’s cog

and log undressed by waves, ring by ring.

The immanence of no returning

 

deity inheres in its last distress.

It is a high unblessed separateness,

at last. At last, it is relentless.

—Brandon Krieg

Published in the 2012-08-17 issue: 
Tags

Brandon Krieg is the author of a poetry collection, Invasives (New Rivers Press), a finalist for the 2015 ASLE Book Award in Environmental Creative Writing. He lives in Kalamazoo, Mich. and is a founding editor of the Winter Anthology: www.winteranthology.com.

Please email comments to letters@commonwealmagazine.org and join the conversation on our Facebook page.

Must Reads

Politics
Religion