Tree Marriage

Tree Marriage
by William Meredith

In Chota Nagpur and Bengal
the betrothed are tied with threads to
mango trees, they marry the trees
as well as one another, and
the two trees marry each other.
Could we do that some time with oaks
or beeches? This gossamer we
hold each other with, this web
of love and habit is not enough.
In mistrust of heavier ties,
I would like tree-siblings for us,
standing together somewhere, two
trees married with us, lightly, their
fingers barely touching in sleep,
our threads invisible but holding. 

"Tree Marriage" by William Meredith, from Effort at Speech. © Northwestern University Press, 1997.

Pig

Pig
by Henri Cole

Poor patient pig -- trying to keep his balance,
that's all, upright on a flatbed ahead of me,
somewhere between Pennsylvania and Ohio,
enjoying the wind, maybe, agains the tufts of hair
on the tops of his ears, like a Stoic at the foot 
of the gallows, or, with my eyes heavy and glazed
from caffeine and driving, like a soul disembarking, 
its flesh probably bacon now tipping into split

pea soup, or, more painful to me, like a man
in his middle years struggling to remain 
vital and honest while we're all just floating
around accidental-like on a breeze.
What funny thoughts slide into the head,
alone on the interstate with no place to be.


From Touch: Poems by Henri Cole Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2011