What I learned from a rotting stump in the woods

Out of all the decay

Of last century’s losses,

Life persists, shouting a silencing

Yes to drown out all of those no’s.

These green shoots

In the rotting wood

Tell us nothing ever

Goes for good,

But gets drawn up

In other forms yet unborn —

The angle of your nose,

The glint in your eye,

The timbre of your voice,

Animating some far-off descendant

Inhabiting a future where you

Now know you will play a part.

—Andrew McCloy, 10/09