What have we, trees seen?

Guardians and life-givers all,

we have watched in silent protest, grief-stricken

as you have pillaged Mother Earth.


What have we, trees seen?

Slate, iron, stone, brick and – oh! – wood,

hewed and nailed and screwed to the ground

in a parody of permanence.


What have we, trees seen?

Hazel and oak and larch and ash, weep

in mute despair whilst you burn, baby, burn,

stealing the essence of life.


What have we, trees seen?

Your demands for more overwhelm us,

we mourn as silent sentinels, watching

death dog your footsteps.


What do we, trees see?

We see that you are gone.



This week, on dVerse Poetics, Abhra has asked to write poetry on trees – not just about trees, but maybe as a tree. What do trees, think and feel, how do they talk? In my dystopian-diverted mind, I think they’re pretty hacked off with us right now, as we squander all that we have, as if we can just pop across to the next planet once we’ve finished with this one.

Today, I’ve been on quite a long road-trip from mid-Wales to the southern end of the country, and then back again. The journey encompassed villages called Bethlehem and Salem within a few miles of each other (not a joke!), and Port Talbot which is shrouded in steam and from its huge steel plant and smells very industrial (but has a strange beauty that a city-born girl like me can appreciate). I have seen much that is wonderful and worrying about our use of the land in just one day, so I imagine that trees, who can live for hundreds of years, are shaking their heads and wondering when we will learn.

I hope you enjoy my piece – please do visit dVerse to read more wonderful imaginings!



Constant Companion – Trifextra Week Eight One

This weekend, the Trifecta team’s Trifextra challenge asks us to write only 33 words, inspired this beautiful photo project by Erik Solheim. Here is the still – 3,888 images from a year’s worth of pictures taken of the view from his window.

One year in one image - Copyright Erik Solheim

One year in one image – Copyright Erik Solheim

The Trifecta team have obviously been disturbed by our affectation for the dark, the depressing, the sinister and the bleak, so we have been requested, nay ordered, to give the dark side a swerve this week. Joy, light, happiness are the order of the day! A heck of a restriction for some of us!

So, after much joy-induced angst, here’s my offering this week. I hope and pray that it fits the bill! Let me know your thoughts, and why not visit the Trifecta website to read the brilliant offerings of others, and take part yourself whilst you’re at it?


– Constant Companion –

Cat adopted me on my arrival.

Now I leave, Cat in tow; my familiar.

She and I have communed with this land in mute admiration.

In return, the trees whispered to us incessantly.