Poem: Ashen Oak
March 1, 2021
Some secret woods I wandered often
I had used to make fears soften
But now, those woods are dwindling,
All that’s left’s burnt kindling,
Yet, I thought, not long ago,
The woods’ leaves prospered, seemed to glow
Now those same leaves are choked by smoke,
Ash and soot fill hollow oak,
So here I dig, see what’s below,
What I had ignored, long ago
The support’s health I would not see,
You burnt (your/the) roots, I watched the leaves.