That place where
it breaks—the faint
hairline crack
that snakes
its spider web
lines out in all
directions, jigsawing
sharp pieces out
of what was once
just a single thing:
a window
I have looked through
forgetting the glass.
The oak seen
for weeks at the top
of the commons
this morning
we found felled
who knows how,
but it scattered
wood splinters
in a sweeping arch
away from the site
the way you’d find
creek water spread
from banks
that have breached—
I’ve looked at that tree
never thinking
for a second
of all the bits
and pieces
of it—seeing
only one tall thing
that might break
but never shatter.
_____
Noah Stetzer is the author of Because I Can See Needing a Knife (Red Bird Chapbooks). His poems have appeared in Sixth Finch, The Cortland Review, Hobart, and other journals. Noah can be found online at www.noahstetzer.com.
_____
Image By: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/2/23/Fallen_Oak_%28in_front_of_King_House%29_%283386943139%29.jpg