Tree
In the stillness of morning’s ascent
snow falls upon the trees
and the roof of your house
and there at the edge of the woods
a white birch bends its svelte trunk,
bows to the ground at your feet
deep in snow, saying, Fathom this,
fathom this, this
is who you are.
The Forest
The forest is a forking path:
to feign death before a bear
or
to live never to know one.
Art Information
- "Oak" © Harry Koopman; Creative Commons license.
Miki Fukuda's poetry has appeared in journals such as CV2, Eighteen Bridges, PRISM international, and Earthlines (UK) and is anthologized in The Crooked Ledge of Another Day (Ascent Aspirations, 2014). Her booklet Songs from Twelve Moons of the Bear is forthcoming from Leaf Press in the Leaflet Small Book Series. In 2012, she was awarded a Banff Centre Scholarship for its Wired Writing Studio Residency Program and is currently seeking publication for her first collection of poetry, What Shone Like Animals.
Before becoming a poet, she designed software for sonar applications and conducted independent verification and validation of software developed in Canada for the International Space Station Freedom. She lives by the woods and lakes of Golden Acres Park in Nova Scotia, Canada.
