By D. Eric Parkison

Leaving me like this, nodding 
In the breeze, locked in knots 
From withdraw, from flicker, 

Fleeing the scene 
Where I am: cinched in a forest 
Cut by incandescences. 

This wooded trouble. My doubled being 
Dribbling through the branches. 
A wooden thought: strength of layers. 

Seeing where you twisted 
Away by the riverside 
I shiver at your laureate tremble. 

Instruction of burl, well-knit 
Into my mind. The mind, 
A lonely wood. I bark. 

You said one day we would. 
Now I am rooting around– 
As forewarned–stunted, stumped.

D. Eric Parkison is the author of No Arcadia, released in 2020, and recipient of a 2022 Massachusetts Cultural Council grant in poetry. Recent work is in Swannanoa Review and Bicoastal Review. He is director of programming at the Gloucester Writers Center and lives in Lynn, MA. Find him at deparkison.com.