This poem grew out of a conversation that Claire and I had about sisterhood, hometowns, and growing up. The piece is an exploration of loving someone boldly and being present in relationships, even when you’re not physically in the same place.
trees tell each other secrets underground
& we pretend like we don’t have any of our own.
find ourselves craving the safety of tangled roots,
shady days that came before we became
people who lived inside of phones
& kept watch on opposite ends of the day.
nowadays, we work hard to grow through concrete cracks,
far from the untouched forest where we grew up.
if you were sick, i’d send you nutrients through the soil;
break through the concrete & uproot myself,
as if presence were enough to heal.
you’re three trains away & there’s no cure
my body has been able to dream up for you.
nothing to send you when you’re sad,
so i talk you through photosynthesis over the phone,
how to breathe in and out until you make something new.
most days, i can’t remember anything past the first step:
take in the light.