My NaBloPoMo plan is to write a poem and take and post a photo every day in November, spending less than half an hour on both. See below for links to previous entries including Day One about why poetry?
Today we walked in the woods behind our home. Everyone has been so grateful that no trees fell on houses or power lines in our neighborhood like they did during June’s derecho.
I was amazed at how many trees did fall, though. Huge root systems taller than three of me just let go.
Who mourns a tree?
If its blossoms do not alight in spring,
if its leaves do not fall in our paths,
if its body does not fall in a storm
across our sidewalk
or car, or house,
or wires that make us feel human,
does the tree matter?
Not for its oxygen or its wood,
but for its soul?
The question is not
whether the tree’s fall
makes a sound
if we are not there
to hear it,
but if its fall
can move us
if it doesn’t
get in our way.
Day 1: Eleven One
Day 2: Shoreline