The Old Tree

This chained lune was written for Poefusion’s Monday Mural, based on the above image. Enjoy.

-Nicole
———————————————————-
The old tree was dying,
her wood drying
as ancient life left her.

The tree has been shelter
for the sculptor -
a cradle of memories.

He remembered afternoons of resting
in her arms,
watching skyward in her branches -

he could not let her go.
He gently carved
a hand from her wood.

He rests in her palm,
watching past branches
which frame the starlit sky;

she will not die now.
In her branches,
he’s a little boy again.

Written 6/29/08
© 2008 Nicole Nicholson. All Rights Reserved.

Stumble It!

Stumble It!

8 Responses to “The Old Tree”

  1. gautami tripathy Says:

    You truly do lunes so well. I like the chained ones!

    from the palms of my hand, you stand tall

  2. ravenswingpoetry Says:

    Thank you, gautami. :)

    -Nicole

  3. San Says:

    wow! that is such stunning imagery. i loved it. :)

  4. ravenswingpoetry Says:

    Thank you, San. :)

    -Nicole

  5. Michelle Johnson Says:

    You have given breath to an old childhood memory of mine with your poem. I loved climbing trees as a child and sitting in the branches or hanging upside down from one. I love the imagery you have portrayed here. Nice job. Have a nice day.

  6. ravenswingpoetry Says:

    Thank you, Michelle. :)

    -Nicole

  7. Noah Says:

    This is amazing.

  8. ravenswingpoetry Says:

    Thank you, Noah.

    -Nicole

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