OUR TREE

You are the felled and broken tree
That lays within my soul
Making square the pure round
That once, oh yes, that once was
whole
And I the wingless ladybird
Who sits upon a withered branch
Too small to offer balm or hope
Or anything, my son,
At all
And so...we felled...and locked
away
In regions far away from day
And I too small and weak to be
The thing that makes
Once more alive
Our tree

M P 30/1/22