Twig

Twig,
you are a small thing—
a slight appendage to the astonishments of the universe.
But to me
your slender, silent testimony,
your sheltered winter sap
sticky with promise, your fullness:
they seduce me.
I want to share
your slow, secluded breathing,
breath in my breath;
to search, to caress
your leaf scars,
your lenticels, your shy buds;
to crawl into your pith;
to share
our dusky, insistent,
consummate aliveness.
Tiny, intricate,
winsome twig, you stretch
unknown
and inconsequential
to all but the watchful tree—
and to me.

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Christine M. Du Bois is a cultural anthropologist with books on immigration and race relations, and on how humans use soybeans, including soy agriculture’s human rights and environmental impacts. She has had poems published at BourgeonOnline.com, the blog of Prospectus magazine, PonderSavant.com, the CAW Anthology, Pif Magazine, Central Texas Writers and Beyond 2021, Open Door Magazine, Valiant Scribe Literary Journal, and The Dope Fiend Daily.  Poems are forthcoming at UniquePoetry.com, in Psychological Perspectives, and in the Canary Literary Magazine. An avid birdwatcher and eco-volunteer, she’s also a precinct Judge of Elections near Philadelphia.

[image: Alaric Duan]