Mulberry

By Craig Arnold Craig Arnold
You have towered here
leaning half over the wall
all my awareness

years before I knew
what silkworm was or China
I felt your berries

pulp under my feet
tracked your purple all over
grandmother’s carpet

a sapling planted
by some sea captain to make
shade for a future

This winter you lost
one of  your long low branches
to a backed-up car

and the old woman
who has known you all her life
wept at the split wood

Your bark is wrinkled
more deeply than any face
you live so slowly

do our voices sound
to you like the fluttering
of  paper moth wings

do we seem rootless
holding fast to the anchor
of  the saddest things

Source: Poetry (October 2013).

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This poem originally appeared in the October 2013 issue of Poetry magazine

October 2013
 Craig  Arnold

Biography

Craig Arnold earned his BA in English from Yale University and his PhD in creative writing from the University of Utah. Arnold’s second collection of poetry, Made Flesh (2008), is “motored by vividly earthy language and disguised philosophical sophistication,” observed Publishers Weekly in a starred review, praising “sequences neither (quite) lyric nor narrative, but erotic and ever alert.” The raw, emotional intensity of Made . . .

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Poem Categorization

SUBJECT Living, Time & Brevity, Nature, Trees & Flowers

POET’S REGION U.S., Northwestern

Poetic Terms Syllabic

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Originally appeared in Poetry magazine.

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