I can hear new bark
forming as daylight
lengthens

and the new leaves
reflecting the green
they do not need.

I have gazed into the
upstream face of a dam
kissed its heel and toe

climbed its ladder.
Only I have been mentored
by fish covering eggs with gravel

and by frozen sand pillars
sculpted by winter winds.
Though recently dormant

I actively seek new work,
like a log, placed on
hot embers, waiting to ignite.

I am perfect
for your
company

for only I will
keep rebuilding
the mud fence between us.

May 29, 2024

About the writer

David A. Goodrum, writer/photographer, lives in Corvallis, Oregon. His work has appeared in Tar River Poetry, The Inflectionist Review, Passengers Journal, Scapegoat Review, Triggerfish Critical Review, Tampa Review, among others. Other publications include a chapbook, Sparse Poetica (Audience Askew, 12/2023), and a book, Vitals and Other Signs of Life (The Poetry Box, 6/2024). See additional work (poetry and photography) at www.davidgoodrum.com.