The Fallen Tree
The Fallen Tree
The tree had fallen,
there was no sign of conflict
no sign of struggle,
just the roots separated
from the ground
as though it
somehow knew
it did not exclusively
belong to this earth.
It looked at me
from eyes tangled deep
within the quiet of its husk.
Its soul was beginning to wander
and the bird who knew this tree
became a witness to its death.
(in-between the silence and the grave)
Secrets
grounded into shadows
and my desire for you
still feels like sandpaper upon my tongue,
____ vampires in my soul.
(Sorrow is not translatable)
So, you said you wanted me
to write you a poem,
it’s harder than I thought it would be.
Sometimes I feel like
that fallen tree.
The birds came
they had no messages
only feathers, eyes and mythology.
The Raven lingered
above the dying wood
starring into the void
as I wrote this poem.
Sometimes things end as they should ____
this is my poem for you.
© Poetry Gesso Cocteau
© Image Pete Berg
___ there are times when we only remember love by the embers left behind ___
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