Bill Keen Poet Epigram

A Bed Is a Fallen Tree

This bed’s supporting limbs
			do not sleep like the log
			they were cut from.
			Dreaming of that splintering
			they mourn when I move,
			remembering leaves 
			and caressing breeze.
			Now down for the count
			and holding a heaviness
			of flesh and bone,
			they can only moan.

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Brian Sambourne March 15, 2022 at 5:23 PM A second life for trees in our beds of comfort - a loss to the forest but supportive in our selfish points of view. A thought provoking write, Bill. Regards always, Brian

Noel Flater March 11, 2019 at 7:36 AM Bill, I like this a lot. The idea of a tree's afterlife is interesting, kind of like a tree in purgatory. But I guess it's better than a tree in hell, a fireplace. NoelsArt

Darlene De Beaulieu January 25, 2019 at 2:19 PM Hello Bill Keen, so nice to meet you.It would be uncomfortable to sleep in a bed of trees. Have a nice day my friend. So nice to meet you. have a nice day my friend.