Willow, in perfect harmony with the forest
exhumation
for Willow, the pointer-setter
who are you digging for sweetheart?
what scrap
of your life
have you stashed
in the ground? whose
memories
have replenished
the soil? how I wish
it were mine this
single-minded
joy
for digging my sole
purpose
hinging on finding
what I can only sense
is there
something
clean as a bone
sufficient unto itself
enough
to feed someone’s hunger
First published in Poemeleon, the Tryth/y Issue, Volume XI, Spring 2020
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