after wendell

i go among the tall trees,
looking for nothing.

trail interrupted
by a large oak.
face down after august storm,
too high to scale-
too low to duck,
the uprooted stump lifts the earth
and leaves a grave beneath.
the canopy gapped by the loss.

i sit, sip, catch my breath.
mosquitoes catch up,
peace hard to appreciate.

as i leave, i hardly notice
the holly tree
sprouting from
the base of the downed giant.
arising parallel to the ground
will make the winter long.

but spring will bring new light
where the tall tree once stood.


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