At a place I should not have been but I was because I had to be
because fate brought me there on a bright beautiful sunny morning when
laden canoes docked
When the growling chainsaw ran through the heart of that great beast
I heard the willow’s wail
I heard the crackling screams as her gossamer-like head fell in defeat
Death gripped her person
Her fall shook the land where heavy tractors mowing through choked the air with tin-canned coughing nuzzles.
On that salubrious morn
I saw the great beast fall
I saw the saps of blood oozing down that mossy bark staining the frock that covered her
I heard that MERCY cry of that centuries old giant
the knife going through her chest, plucking out her heart
In a place I should not have been but I was because I had to be there
because providence brought me there on a bright beautiful morning
I heard the willow’s wail
I saw her fall
I heard the nightingales scampering, screaming, salvaging what they could
but nothing could be saved ‘cause all was lost
Hermit crabs shuffling sounded an ode to destruction
while frightened creatures fled and trampled each other in a stampede made by savage men as the refugees fled
Over and up, over and up, running for redemption
as they dodged the fall of the weeping willow tree
Arias composed by bullies bulldozing came with the whisper on the stroke of a pen
MOUs signed saw erected signs
NO SPACE ON THE BEACH
NO ENTRANCE YOU’LL FIND
with corals bleached and wetlands breached
and morasses drenched
saw all them locals squeezed from the land
In a time when I should not have been
but I was because I had to be
because chance brought me there
on a bright beautiful sizzling sunny summer morning
when that great willow wailed
as death kissed her muscular root
when the machines tore through her
branch by branch, limb by limb
and watched the sap slowly oozed through
to stain the robe of her fallen crest
I was there
I heard her mercy screech

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A little about me and poetry

This poem is my submission to the School Poetry 100 Day Challenge hosted by @d-pend, whom I would like to thank for sponsoring this competition. He is indeed a godsend. Though a bit dubious, I would consider myself an intermediate writer of poetry. My first love is prose, so if you get a feel of something other than verse in my poetry that is why. I use poems to assist me when I have writer’s block. This strategy, however, seems to be morphing into something more serious. At least I think so.

Thanks for reading.

Poem by: @nicholas83

Date: 4/18/18

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