Snapshot Poem 23 August 02006

You Say You Want to Know Me

Look at the dead spruce, towering
above all its leafed-out neighbors,
a favorite perch for crows and ravens.
Gray, naked, limbs all bent toward
ground that no longer feeds it; branches
drilled by flickers and woodpeckers;
insect-rich; gymnasium for squirrel
acrobatics; choir loft of sparrows;
history written, hidden in its tall trunk;
rough bark peeling away in chunks.
It will stand another year or two, then
fall to the arborist's saw to make way
for a new house, a tamer habitat
for humans, masonry and planned
plantings. Soon it will be remembered
by no one at all; not the crows or ravens;
not the woodpeckers or flickers; not
the sparrows or squirrels, and one day
not even by me.

Comments

[Maureen/RavenGrrl]

Wonderful descriptive snapshot, Susan -- visual, sensual and sparse. I like the rhythm you establish by using few adjectives, and the title is apt -- do people really mean that when they say they want to know us? And if so, then read this -- you have told so much about who you really are. I like it!

[wendy]

I lingered on this poem. I typed in my info...I had to let you know it was very good. I love your tag line.