A Single Living Thing
For Reva Sharon
A single living thing took root
in darkness
under a ledge of granite
on a scarp of glacial mountain
hidden from the light
of clouds
It grew unnoticed for decades
then centuries
until it raised a crown of branches
toward the stars
until its thick roots cleaved
to a stone embankment
and moon-sheathed boulders
were enmeshed
in what it was
Nothing but life clung to it
for a thousand years
and then, in a single night,
it fell
The shockwave shuttered
the moon
And then it was rotted timber
and loamy tunnels
for termites
a feeding ground for finches
Lichen leeched to it
and fungi extruded
their ears
Year after year, it simmered
in the sun of summer
fall breezes cooled it
winter rain iced down—
spangling each moldering twig—
and spring was the music
of its dwindling toward
nothingness
Until, in the humus and duff
that was left of it, a single living thing
took root
© Charles Fishman