A Tree That Crumples

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I am deceased; I perished that day. Nothing is left of me, I left myself behind. There is a new somebody alive in the husk that once belonged to me and uses cartilage and skull. In death a torment would have ended that carries on now interminably. No flowers on my shrine. The berth where I was found no place of pilgrimage. A tree that crumples in sorrow. Its green petals encompass the last of my claret, spilt in love for those who loved me. I bend down, grasp this dry red earth. I dig with feeble fingers a small hole. More I do not need. Sprinkle some water, and hope one flower will one day bloom. **** February 23, 2017 © Darren White

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Sara Ella

Date: 2/24/2017 8:39:00 AM

The tree that you do not need to see again and yet cannot forget is the end and the beginning but I would say that your heart has ALWAYS been beautiful like your poems express. <3

Darren White
Date: 2/24/2017 8:47:00 AM

That tree is being read here in such a different way, that I can have peace with it. Love you, my friend <3

John Herlihy

Date: 2/24/2017 2:17:00 AM

All of nature speaks in ways that we can comprehend. Your subtle poem suggests this. Fine work. John

Darren White
Date: 2/24/2017 2:41:00 AM

Thank you, John. It also says something of the resilience.... of trees.

Andrea Dietrich

Date: 2/23/2017 8:55:00 PM

Darren your writing never ceases to amaze me. The feeling you put into this one for the tree. Love that hopeful ending.

Darren White
Date: 2/23/2017 11:36:00 PM

Thank you Andrea. A tale of rebirth :)

Doug Vinson

Date: 2/23/2017 8:36:00 PM

Some seriously good poetry, Darren. Rebirth perhaps, yes, and concepts of freedom. What is suffering worth? Patience and maturity - do they go together? Are we human without such questions?

Doug Vinson
Date: 2/26/2017 10:51:00 PM

A good dose of what the writer thinks is obvious or close to it may be the perfect prescription at times. We're all different individuals, and a communication gap of varying width is usually there, making things less clear, perhaps even unintelligible. I think authors can often successfully err on the side of "obvious."

Darren White
Date: 2/23/2017 11:35:00 PM

I absolutely love the way poetry can be interpreted. I am sometimes afraid I am too obvious. This proves I am not. I enjoy this Doug, yes those are existential questions......

Tim Smith

Date: 2/23/2017 8:20:00 AM

And the broken part can be made into someone's home, or keep them from freezing...great personification

Darren White
Date: 2/23/2017 8:24:00 AM

Yes.... Indeed Tim. It's a comforting thought, that.