Crown Shyness
A phenomenon observed in some tree species, in which the crowns of fully grown trees do not touch each other, forming a canopy with channel-like gaps
1.
Dear Lost One,
No one’s sitting at your desk the way you sat
or seeing the sea the way you saw it.
I wondered what this would be like.
I never thought you’d leave me,
but there it is. Your plaid wool jacket, slung on a chair,
the sleeves forming a half an embrace, but never
a whole one. A handshake
instead of flowers. A compliment
instead of a kiss. I never did ask you
for the dream I could not describe.
It slouched around me, a slick humidity
that never turned to rain.
2.
Dear Mamma,
A ghost-woman planted
camellias in our yard, but I rarely suspected
she’d stay forever. At first, their ivory scent
intrigued me, but then
I remembered you, and me, and him,
each of us a singular pearl
strung on an invisible string.
I still use my father’s bureau
though it’s painted completely white now.
He must have had so few clothes.
3.
Dear Pagan Shadow,
We approached some fragile union,
but it could not be sustained. You threatened secrets
I already knew. You missed the house wren’s song
because you kept talking.
You feel like night in the afternoon.
The tent you pitched in Eros has folded.
This is the ordinary unthinkable.
This is how each of us comes around
and goes around without a name,
without a scepter, without a crown,
while never being touched or seen.