Cutting the tree (and why)

Accusingly the tree branch points
to where the sun should be
but only how we now don’t speak
will make a memory.

Alarmingly you speak no more
of what our love could be
but only how there is no point
in staying here with me.

If only now I cut that tree
would then the sunlight burn
and if so, will you speak to me,
would our sweet love return?

πŸ˜‰

Comments on: "Cutting the tree (and why)" (7)

  1. Delicately expressed. I like your restraint in touching heartbreak without much fuss in words. The other two- poetry house,spring are also good.

  2. This is very sweet Ina. I don’t normally go for rhyming poems but this is lovely.

    • Hi David
      Thank you very much. Rhyming poems may seem a bit too unnatural, still they have a certain charm I think πŸ™‚

  3. Ina, I love this a lot – and I agree, rhyming poems do have a certain charm, when it fits the content.
    (Lots of synchronicity today – I posted a poem earlier about cutting trees down, and also used some of the same words that Martin used in his latest poem. Sometimes I wonder if our subconscious, creative minds are all connected! πŸ™‚ )

    • Hi Betty, thank you very much, I had the same idea about your poem of the shell, it reminded me of The whisper shell, a poem I wrote a while back. I suppose we all think alike as great minds do? Or something like that! Still, we all have our own way of expression! πŸ™‚

  4. Excellent image of cutting the tree to let the sun shine through…while wondering if you can cut away the obstructions of life so this love will shine on you again.

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