Monday, 7 April 2025

Relict

 


No one noticed

the storm-wracked tree

fall from the scarp

into the sea,

nor saw it suffer

from rootless drifting,

flayed of bark,

with branches broken,

and scarred by worm-inflicted wounds.

But its odyssey of aimless miles

ceased on a beach,

when hands reached out

to drag it from the spume,

and recognized a work of art,

a wave-borne triumph

of intricate textures,

and sublime asymmetry.


John Walter Taylor

© All rights reserved

7 April 2025


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