Today I dismembered you, old friend.
I took your sinewy strips of red bark
and narrow, crackling fingers
and put them on a bonfire.
I sliced your white fibrous limbs
into fat chunks for later.
It is a violation, a betrayal, a chore.
Can it be an honouring?
The incense scent of your sap
and the green grit of your lichens
are smeared across my skin.
I will miss you.
Copyright © 2013 Elizabeth Cutts
This is a quick’n’slapdash poem written because today my favourite tree came down in a storm. I originally posted it on my gardening blog but decided I would also post it here.