Sitting on this Fallen Log

Sitting on this fallen log

With my dog

Nearby, I touch the reality

Of this tree,

Which once stood

In this Great North Wood.

 

 

It’s brother trees still stand

Their canopy shading me

From the evening sun.

 

 

Others will come

And sit or stand

In this place

When this old fallen tree

And you who

Now read me

Have vanished without trace.