Taking Down the Tree, i

Surviving hungry mouths until i was too tall to reach, survived the battle raged, when they fourmed their new nation. I was there when they signed that declaration, and when they were split. The path by me became a road, trod by foot and hoof for decades. Then the wheels, and motors came, coughing smoke and belching flame. A sign they hung nearby, telling my story to passersby, who rarely stopped to read. And every year more acorns i made, though they don’t make that bread no more. Then one day a big celebration, they make. Crowds came out and laid picnics beside me. A doctor a tree-surgeon spoke, and a native chief. They honored me then, and thanked me, with feathers and incense. Then came the man in flannel and leather chaps. He bent down, and pulled the cord. His chainsaw roared to life…

 

20191111 dVerse

15 thoughts on “Taking Down the Tree, i

  1. I found this saddening to me and love that it was written in the person of the tree and that you used the title of Kenyon’s poem for your own. The only thing is that the line from the poem, not the title, is what the prompt is about . That line is in the middle of the prompt, something like “If there must be darkness, let it be extravagant.” That being said, this really touched me. And your teaser in the comments on dVerse makes sense to me, now.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I find the synchronicity of seeing this in the WP feed, just above my own angel tree post, fascinating. And then to read that one at Roth poetry as well! Some tree energy in the blogiverse taking root (or getting cut down).

    Terrifying read, very moving.

    The cycle of reverence followed by destruction, life and death, end without end.

    Also I like the use of the word “fourmed” which to me reminds me of ants (the French word for ants is “fourmis”).

    Liked by 1 person

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