Nine women claim a baby boy in Sri Lanka.
perhaps the loudest or the one with a sack
grow a beard and wonder about the other
over him. He will wonder about the one
He will move through life, deeper and
until suddenly, a clearing—a single ficus
its roots wrapping tightly around the trunk,
The wind will pause around the damaged trunk,
a splintered fence. The boy will pause.
the root’s collar, cut just outside of
He will do this until the roots flurry out
He will go from tree to tree, lit by the light of
the world’s vessels.