Poetry

Boundary Tree

Leaving Also Means Coming to Something New

Beneath the gnarled, wide pine, spongy crunch of leaves and needles, blanket of seasons and years I call it the boundary tree — survivor of hurricane, ice, and culling Standing at the meeting or divergence; two paths leading to a summit, connected in a loop Left or right, north or south My energy and time determine which direction and how far Either choice returns me to this tree; this boundary of coming and going

I’m the author of the novel At the End of the World and the poetry collection An Important Sky. My short fiction and poetry have appeared in Translunar Travelers Lounge, Star*Line, and others. I’m also co-host of The Time is Right: Living a Creative Life podcast. You can learn more at kevinjfellows.com