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