Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

Tree grows tall on a wooded bank

Winds blow hard from the ocean’s depths.

Ages pass and the tall tree falls

Caught by the current swept by the tide.

Water rolls where the warm wind whistled

Fish in the branches where songbirds perched.

What was warm bark grub-riddled

Noisy with insects and tapping birds

Rolls black-coated and slime-bound

Floating fish food.

Silent now it rides the tides

Awkward rudderless boat it bobs

Dragging last year’s leaves in the felled rigging of its boughs

Perhaps to end as driftwood on a quiet beach sun-bleached

If the fates are kind.

Take my wishes to the sea, tree

Drown them in the green waves

And perhaps they too will wash ashore

On a sunlit beach

For someone else to find and cherish.