Bigger-Picture

Windows on the world

Poems

Possession
(first published at www.write-away.co.uk May 2000)

    The breeze rustles round the house,
    Stirring flowers in the garden,
    Leaves on the old beech tree, 
    Then moves on up the valley
    Touching all yet forever untouched.

  My house, my garden, my tree -
    Possessions marked out by fence,
    Defined by deed and legal documents.
    So is this also, momentarily, my breeze?

    At least I know that I possess the tree
    With power to touch bark, collect leaves,
    Prune branches. Even fell.
    Yet if I leave for a few days, or months,
    The tree remains, not needing me to call its name.

    And all the while birds and insects
    Fly over my fence to lodge in the tree,
    Squirrels run along its branches,
    All indifferent to my existence.

    My piece of paper, itself once a tree,
    Assures me that the centuries-old beech is mine.

    But only by Man's reckoning.

© Harvey Tordoff
May 2000