Gone is the birch tree
that filled the corner window,
its white amidst the notches of black
quietly assumed peace exists.
I search for the tree in pictures,
lithe, drop shaped leaves
in spring, flurry of color in autumn,
and locked in ice in winter.
So locked in the present is the absence
of all I hold close. I hurry to find
the photo of my friend after we reached
the sky-filled tarn together,.
my mother gazing at her granddaughter
with a smile da Vinci could not equal,
my father feeding his grandson
for the first time afraid to smile for fear
he will lose hold of the fragile, pulsing
life force I placed in his lap.
Janet Krauss, who has two books of poetry published, Borrowed Scenery, Yuganta Press, and Through the Trees of Autumn, Spartina Press, has recently retired from teaching English at Fairfield University. Her mission is to help and guide Bridgeport’s young children through her teaching creative writing, leading book clubs and reading to and engaging a kindergarten class. As a poet, she co-directs the poetry program of the Black Rock Art Guild. In May, 2018 her poem, “A View from a Window” was published in Amethyst Review.