Invasive Species
The woodsman wandered the understory with rangy grace
and when he explained – box cutter between teeth –
how to remove the age-old plastic covers
used to protect silver fir seedlings from nibbling deer
I wanted to be the deer
nibbling on his earlobes
and could not pay apt attention to the
Effects of human fossils on Black Forest ecosystems
Only to the shadows of a lemony summer on this woodsman’s face
so clear the sense of light was coming through the beech leaves
I thought I described what I saw to him aloud.
The canopy of trees played hide and seek in his eyes, green & sincere
sprinkled with alchemic forest fires, the extinct kind
that brought fertility to the soil not devastation.
Though nostalgia I remind myself time and again is
an insufficient response.
No sound he made by walking on patrol & every time he materialized
I came up with a new forest question,
attempting innocence, wiping sweat and ticks off my arms
about to mutilate hot skin.
What is an invasive species? How does one prepare for disruption?
Do you believe in the hidden life of trees?
This one, he kicked his foot against a princess tree, leaves trembling owl wings
I could have sheltered the whole of my body – our bodies – under them,
but he took out his handsaw.
A species from elsewhere that doesn’t belong
that arrived to cause trouble
Listen how hollow the trunk?
Unapologetic voice, armed with acidic spikes
and all I can do is hiss and rustle
and the wind sounds like rain.
Realism is painful. I fell right there, swishing air
all gravity no grace, down to taste soil
and rest my forehead against the planet.
Anne-Sophie Balzer is a queer writer, poet and journalist from Berlin, Germany. Her current fellowship research focuses on glaciers in North American poetries. Read more.