Tuesday, 5 September 2017

The Tale of the Trembling Tree

(Liz our House Poet, writes out of a static mobile home on a farm in the depths of Berkshire. It's bounded by a huge line of Poplars. Known as the 'Trembling Tree' Liz finds timely inspiration from the Poplar as we begin to sense the first murmurings of Autumn...)

The Tale of the Trembling Tree

I am always trembling
my trunk of being rooted in a quivering response to now
tall, erect, commanding – 
knowing nothing, sensing everything
my season is the fall

A leaf of my undoing
shimmies to the ground
without a sound
this unexpected act of self-surrender
a solo rite of passage holds us all in awe
while - with my baton raised –
I stand still…

My season is the fall.

© Liz Darcy Jones
August 2017
Image result for poplars