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October 2014, vol 10 no 3

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Ina Scott

Wooden Heart

Today I watch the removal of our dying birch tree. Unsuccessful attempts to save it occupied several months, cutting it down…less than fifteen minutes. Shall I ask the arborist to cut stumps from the trunk? Yes, I will have three stumps. I will nurture the replacement, really just a twig. It will be inserted in earth that once surrounded a mature white-barked birch tree with shimmering summer leaves and a bare-branched winter form graceful as a ballerina. Eventually twig will concede to tree…cast shadows that will fall like fresh snow to cool the hot summer days.

breeze erases
I redraw
circle in the sand