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Incision
BEN HOWARD
INCISION
Furrowed as though eroded,
the maple's trunk endures.
One thinks of taking
liberties with its thick,
reluctant bark. One thinks
of making an incision where
the flesh has been exposed,
as though this stricken trunk,
with its large and lesser ridges,
its specks of moss and lichen,
were a human hand, where one might find
strong tendons and divide
mere flesh from solid bone.
And yet one finds
this trunk is not a hand; nor can
the human need to find
the bedrock underneath
the loam, the skeleton
beneath the skin, be satisfied
by this endeavor. Lost
in layers, coarse
and fine, and utterly
without foundation, one
discovers nothing more
or less than links and complements:
split fibers, shreds, and strands.