A Piece of Bark

I go into the woods behind my house searching for a tree just my age.
I cut from it a jagged piece of bark
in your memory.

I place the bark between my hands,
scraping back and forth until I see red, until I see every gurgling, blue-faced, moment from our helpless night.

I know the tree is in great pain now
as vulnerable as I am, having lost its armor, its beauty,
its guide, its sleeve of hope.

I visit this place often,
to watch the tree heal,
to grieve what I have done and what I have lost.

from The Long Body That Connects Us All by Rich Marcello (Publishers Daily)