Quiescent he grasps the branch of maple like the arm of his lover in sleep
of conjointment
The trunk would sense the small loss of bough
Bark would give itself over to sun & heat of day
And he would be left treeless
There is no indication that if the branch were cut clean through
sundered at the point
that the maple would remain standing
of xylem & phloem & transpirational pull
cracking & cold of night
with a single limb
deciduous
Laura Navratil is from Naperville, Illinois. She is currently an M.F.A. candidate at the
University of Alabama, where she is an assistant poetry editor of Black Warrior Review.