Tree grows tall on a wooded bank
Winds blow hard from the ocean’s depths.
Ages pass and the tall tree falls
Caught by the current swept by the tide.
Water rolls where the warm wind whistled
Fish in the branches where songbirds perched.
What was warm bark grub-riddled
Noisy with insects and tapping birds
Rolls black-coated and slime-bound
Floating fish food.
Silent now it rides the tides
Awkward rudderless boat it bobs
Dragging last year’s leaves in the felled rigging of its boughs
Perhaps to end as driftwood on a quiet beach sun-bleached
If the fates are kind.
Take my wishes to the sea, tree
Drown them in the green waves
And perhaps they too will wash ashore
On a sunlit beach
For someone else to find and cherish.
Viv Drewa - The Owl Lady 