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.