Even when our bodies are quiet
as we sit by the window reading,
they’re messaging each other
like the maples below our window,
companions since sapling-hood
who nourish and warn
through roots and capillaries,
one tree so attuned
to the other’s distress
that its own leaves and trunk
can turn sickly. Sometimes,
slipping out of separate skins,
we become one body,
feeling each other’s pain
as our own. Remember
your morning sickness
the first time I was pregnant?
While lately my breathing
is labored like yours
though the doctor finds
no cause. Oh Love, cause enough–
my fear of losing you, dread of losing us.
