Inscription on a Tree Beside Wayland’s Smithy

Inscription on a Tree Beside Wayland’s Smithy

 

Working deep into the cambium,

Knife blade damp with sap,

The unknown author whittles down

The poem to a single word:

 

Not PHAGUS, nor even BEECH,

No word of nuptial, nor of love:

TREE,

Levered in deeply –

 

Then wends away, and turns

Responsible, lives and earns,

And goes to loam. The word

Grows wide with time,

 

Crazed by borers,

And woodwales’ claws:

The roots unearth;

The tree falls.

 

Across the glade

The stones remain,

Their owners’ bones

Inside museums.

 

Poem by Giles Watson, 2011.

Done