The Missing
I wonder if my apple tree is lonely for its kin,
if the fingers of fungus woven with its roots
reach out to other roots that are not there —
no one to warn of pests or ask for help,
no one to hum with, lean toward in strong winds.
Once I offered it ashes —
a bit of the husband I lost.
Some ghostly mycelial thread
still runs from him through soil and tree to me.
Nothing will fill the hole that gaped
when he was uprooted from the world.
PATRICIA ZYLIUS is the author of the chapbook Once a Vibrant Field. Read More