Monday, December 30, 2013

Winding down 2013

The annual end of year turbo session was done yesterday with friends from Tuff Fitty Triathlon Club and just a few of us from Trinity. Much more civilised in their venue in Arundel than in our very cold packing department at Stephen Belt Antiques and Shipping. I did three hours, of the four hour session. Whilst my husband/coach/best friend Steve, soldiered on to the end, I went for a nice walk in the woods with my daughter Jakki's dog Louis. He is staying with us until his family get back from a short holiday in Turkey. The notes I took during this walk resulted in yet another of my nutty poems that have become a daily feature of me life. The poems are my self therapy sessions and save me from self combustion!

Fallen Tree 

A full grown tree
Downed by the storms of late
Lays like an unconscious giant
Not so much uprooted
As is more common
When trees are felled by a tempest,
But viscously torn apart
As if by massive teeth,
Ripped asunder
Toward the base.
What force,
Completely smashed
This once lovely tree.
Clean exposed core wood
The colour of desert sand
Faces out and upward
Among huge splinters
That themselves give evidence
To the monstrous destruction.
Close to the sodden ground,
The torso, the corpse,
The recently sound trunk,
Has itself committed
An almost equal crime;
As it fell,
The sheer weight of the big tree
Brought about life’s finale
For two younger, weaker trees
That now involuntarily support it,
Slightly off the ground
Like the worlds strongest man
Lifting the Olympic medal winning weight.
Ivy still clings to the great mass
Stretched like a bow string over the
Decimated woodland giant
That has stood handsomely there
In the middle of a tight,
Closely tree-ed wood
Showing off the beauty of its
Abundant foliage for decades,
Now it lies, mangled, mutilated,
Humbled and beaten
Beyond any hope of repair,
Still sucking the last drops of sap
From the minute strands
Still attached with weakening sinew’s
To the stricken base,
And by that to the life giving roots
Still firmly implanted in the ground.
No miracle surgery can save
The life of the broken tree.
The time it has left….
Is only in wait for the saw and axe.

 

1 comment:

Jan de Landtsheer said...

Very well written poem Daf. I can imagine the tree. A photo of the tree would not have the same effect.