Poem | Quick

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.

Published in the May 1, 2015 issue: 
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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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