There had been a storm
and two great trees had been split.
So they were felled and sectioned up
and left beside the path.
Now I walked past straight after getting
that letter no worker wants to get.
But the scene stopped and held me.
Rain had driven the fellers off
so all was still, tools in place
but no movement.
I saw the sectioned trunk
recorder of the past, now
a massive square log
So impotent.
Off to one side some domes
of red showed fungi
at their eternal task.
With my own sense of being cut
and left beside the path.
I could not walk past and watched
uncomprehendingly
in the winter rain
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