By GABBY AVENA
i:
the tree kneels
at the pond the tree
kneels to touch the
pond touch neither the
tree nor the pond
which the tree wants
touching your fingers
which cannot touch
the tree curl like
the tree’s bowed
back arcing up to
touch the ache of
sky arcing down to
touch the ache of
pond with frond fingers
within yet without
the pond they ache
as one as wind as if
breath could do more
than touch
then breathe
then touch
ii:
close the book
for the spider’s spit silhouette
startle into earth
sipping softly at skin underside
feet stuck in shade
sloughed-off sandals
sticking out the earth
from which the spider
shivers upon you
and your book closed
for you have seen this all before
Writer | Gabby Avena ’25 | gavena25@amherst.edu
Editor | Sam Huang ’26 | lhuang26@amherst.edu