“Confessions of a Retired Builder” by Zachary Johnson

I stick-framed houses for thirty-eight years
—never thanked a tree
until today

Filled earth
with countless Sonotubes
never asking her, “How does that feel

to be put full of holes

friend?” I went so far
as to cover rabbit houses
with human basements

Now I want
to puke
But it’s okay—

Today
I got saged
in a maple grove

Today I cried
at the cutting
of a sapling

and burned inside

Today I packed dirt
with bare feet
and kneeled

down on the alter
of my own
mother’s

stomach
—humbly
sprinkling

dried tobacco
into her belly
button

with reverence
Today I said
sorry

for the years

I didn’t realize
we were doing things
all wrong

-Zachary Johnson

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