Confluence

the nameless waters

of these two rivers

arriving here

just now

the forging and hammering

of the shovel blade

the turning of the wood

for the handle

on the lathe

the ancient boulder

dropped by a glacier

the slow decay

of leaves the sweep

of grasses

burying stone

the arborist’s

grafting

of one life

onto another

and my decision

to plant the tree

that will outlive me

in the ground

of this

confluence