For Patricia Monaghan (1945–2012)
“She is a tree in a circle of stones.”
  —P.M., “Praisesong for Her”

 

She’s a tree in a circle of stones.

 

So then what is this world?

It’s a changing, a touching, a rotting, a growth.

 

Like a tree, I will root my own feet in the ground,
because you were so strong.

 

Who are we in this world?

We’re a finding, a solitude, meaning, and loss

(You pulled fire from the earth, through your vines, through your voice)

 

She’s a tree in a circle of stones.

 

So how then shall we live in this world?

With a rotting, a touching, a growth, and a changing;

With a meaning, a solitude, loss, and a finding.

 

(You came laughing me home to my most urgent tongue)

 

Like a tree, I will lift my own hands in the air
Because you were so free

 

In this world, how then, how, shall we live?