Dendrochronology
after the painting Divorce by Todd Rector
How many growth years can be counted
in the light and dark concentric rings that mark
our life together? Thicker rings prove
that we flourished for a time—mostly early—
while thinner rings show the wear and tear
seasons of drought wrought upon the two of us.
It’s those later years where the wedge slips in,
splitting us all the way down to our roots.
What’s left of us, splintered kindling and logs
already weathered by years of neglect,
will burn hot, but will also burn too briefly,
sending our smoke high into the air entwined
until the wind dissipates us into the atmosphere,
separate parts of one inescapable whole.
*
Early Onset Ghost Town
The ghost town where I have lived my life
is a cage full of air. All the birds flew away
in search of other trees or other skies beyond this sky.
There’s nothing left but weathered ribs and hollowness.
For years I have been a cage full of all the birds that flew away.
But now feathered memories have broken through my chest,
and soon there will be nothing left but weathered ribs and hollowness.
There’s no stopping them. I watch as they take flight one by one,
feathered memories flapping out of my chest
in search of other trees or other skies beyond my sky.
There’s no stopping them. I watch as they take flight one by one,
leaving only the ghost town of my body. I have lived my life.
*
Kip Knott is a writer, photographer, teacher, and part-time art dealer living in Delaware, Ohio. His third book of poetry, The Other Side of Who I Am, is due later this year from Kelsay Books. His debut collection of stories, Some Birds Nest in Broken Branches (Alien Buddha Press), is available on Amazon. You can follow him on Instagram at @kip.knott and read more of his work at kipknott.com.
