A Clearing                                                         

            The soft clay slowed our step
            Along the ridge, the treetops swayed
            And then the mist above the distant valley

            As we clambered in the sudden dark
            I scraped my skin

            The rains were brief and once the storm
            Blew past I showed the reddening
            To demonstrate how fine a line
            Created two worlds out of one

            And when it swelled I told her
            It was strange how little pain it took
            To turn a crocus or a daffodil 
            To weed

            The forest silence grew, of unseen
            Scuffling and attack, hunger and 
            Pursuit and song, as if the 
            Nothing new were nothing new

            We reached the clearing

            I could see that she had tired of
            All my talk about interiors
            As she admired the view –

            An earthen wall, the massive roots
            Exposed, the fallen trunks 
            Upon the slope and overhead the light –

            Refusing to believe that what we saw
            Had anything to do with love


             Emanuel E. García, Sojourns2014