where art collides philosoperontap

May 11, 2013

sycamore sawn

Filed under: poems — Tags: , — Trefor Davies @ 10:30 am

You, most roguish of sycamores

shall not escape the fate of your siblings

mown dead with the first spring growth

of the recovering lawn.

The sanctuary of the hedge

no longer available

when you looked above the parapet,

were spotted and now lie sawn.

 

You shall not be remembered.

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