May 23, 2014

Close Call

Close Call
By John R. Greenwood

such a close call 
chainsaw teeth 
nipping at my neighbors feet
my fear hidden beneath leafy limb

his solid trunk 
strong and straight
more desirable than mine 
whose punky guts 
sway weak like mush

his bark thick with character
mine brittle like light bulb glass 
ready to shatter under an angry wind

he proclaims strength against the world
I cower in his shadow
my roots trembling in fear
his roots dancing in arrogance 

how finite the distinction 
between table worthy plank 
or embarrassing kindling 
plentiful and forever ignored

This was written for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads


  1. There is something in me that cries out deeply against tree-felling, so your poem has struck a chord. I guess there is something to be said for being puny if it means avoiding the chainsaws life would throw at us.

  2. Poor tree, to feel so second rate!

  3. I think "second" rate in this case might be a good thing. "roots trembling in fear'… arrogance won't help in the end. ;)

  4. Do not fear. No trees were harmed in the writing of this poem. 100% poetic license and imagination.