Aral, by Jennifer Acampora

Aral 

I am in love with sky and the land under it

the way one mirrors

the other

the way the trees reach up and rain trembles

down tender / harsh / lush.

The way it was once with your body

my garden, squirreled away    the dearest

freshest things.

I want them all encircled   safe       

            the tiny bird

               the leaf

      frogs    honeybees

 every fourth mammal

There is so much… …

There are oceans.   Our actions are definite.

The way out of despair

 is heroism.

the heroic.  but I

despair

and my impulse to encircle —

false?               true?

The cosmos that bloom    I planted them

my hand.    

The way the branch arcs, pleads…

I loved that spiraling, that symphony

which is to say    I loved.

It was your face then, brown and before me

the way light plays the tree’s music.