in this Curious dark
timbers strain upward
hewn days before
outside in the light
of mother sun
skin chopped away
xylem and phloem
transformed – no longer
a food conveyor, or
shelter bringer, or
fire starter, but still
their fibrous groan
down black tunnels
a natural protector
in this mine
this curious dark
4 thoughts on "in this Curious dark"
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The transformation from light to dark, from life to service, feels so reverent and real.
The poem is like tree bark. Beautiful!
This is great Allen.
the last line is a clincher
Love the title…had me stop and think and how it repeats…