Branches hanging too far, clinging beyond limits
Of shadows, crippling any goodness unseen,
Once beloved landscape henceforth menacing,
Unbeknownst to deepest root, highest leaf.
Saw in hand, teeth set apart sharp and ready
With gentleness, clean against the grain,
Careful not to bring harm to a silent good,
Not to snap a twig, nor rip a limb savagely.
By the sky, the grass below, birds, bees witnessing
A trespass beyond my entreaty, I come in
Peace, scaling back from imminence the fear
Of impending doom upon structures inert.
Back and forth, muscles contracted, heart
Racing, calories burned beyond tally, pausing
To recollect, regain a sense of strength
Coming from an action slightly crude.
Dust flies in my face, magic dust all over
The ground and in the air, soft, off white,
Tasteless but plenty of bite, bouquet of fresh
Dill weed authenticating fine, curious nosh.
The flesh of wood so clean, so pure
Covered in skin, knobs of brown and black,
Branches winding left and right to a sun
Once relevant, now a shadowed travesty.
Revamped into straight lines of symmetry,
Neater in cessation than in life but just
As beautiful, essential as the day planted
Save a deprivation of estate, expansion.
Consumption, incarnation, seeking
A second life to roast marshmallows, warm
A hearth, nestle before cobalt, crimson,
Cadmium creating moments of reflection.
Copyright © 2013 Shainbird. All rights reserved.