haiku.blog
A new day a new haiku
—
by
Three hundred to grow Three hundred to slowly thrive Three hundred to die
Home landed grounded Back among familiar folk The way of the oak
A sleepy giant Climbing frame, insect hotel Clean air factory
The years leave their mark In your scarred and pitted bark Our lives just a spark
Buckle, bend and break Beneath the branches burden A bar for my back
As each year passes Another layer of leaves Will bury the last
Lurid lush lime leaves Freshly torn by a spring breeze What is this disease?
Penumbral Oak trees Darken degraded footpaths Tie me up in knots
The magic of fire Transforming oak into ash We will rise like smoke
To this English Oak Older than fields and houses Our lives look so short
Here we stand on guard Watching over the valley These short human lives
Corroded Oak leaves Rustle in the autumn breeze Rusted to their trees