my mo(u)rning tree

Lately, i have been mourning mornings

                                                                  When i am here,

the birds no longer sing.

                                        Their sounds weigh the leaves

          the ground and resurrect trees

present with their gift. Yet, i

remain greeted with the back of sun—just enough warmth

           to feel seen—not enough, to see green …

positioning me to mourn the next, morning

                                                mourning

                                                morning

                                                mourning


Jen Katshunga @jenkitoko  is a writer, storyteller and researcher based in Toronto, Canada, Kinshasa, DR Congo & London, United Kingdom. She enjoys writing about/with time, sound and nature, in particular waters.

Advertisements