Falling Ash Bough

I.
It rips the sky
with a devastating creak,
revealing the long wound of limbo.

Sky above falling ash boughII.
I run in fear
as the strong arm falls,
crashing across the path
I would have walked
but for the warning,
a message or sacrifice
in grey and green,
a wake up call.

Fallen ash boughIII.
I stand shattered in the miracle
that I am still standing
in the miracle
that yew and ash are still standing.

Yew and AshIV.
The woodland has lost its bough.
Light knows new dapples now
and I know nowhere is safe.

Fallen ash bough

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2 thoughts on “Falling Ash Bough

  1. Whew……I can relate to this poem, as we live in an area that has many, many old hardwoods. Recently at a neighbour’s, 5 doors away, a huge limb crashed onto the sidewalk……nobody was hurt. But the “what ifs” persist, and you have captured that beautifully in your poem. Glad you are safe……Charlotte

  2. This poem has tension and danger and beauty, bound in a new awareness of the fragility of life. I was/am there and my heart pounding, too, as I read it. The changes seconds can make . . .

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