let me be Ovid here —
omnia mutantur, nihil interit
everything changes,
nothing perishes
nothing perishes
a woodpecker cavities
a tree snag and calls it home,
a nuthatch climbs in
to share a meal of bugs
a dead tree is an
infinite hotel
infinite hotel
ambrosia beetles check in —
in love with the sapwood’s alcohol
they tunnel into rot and fungus
voles visit, eat the log’s mushrooms,
spit spores that
enrich soil for saplings
enrich soil for saplings
bracket fungus
hollowed holey guts
mossy bark — unlovely
but this dead wood
throbs — it’s alive
throbs — it’s alive
a dead tree is an infinite hotel, Richard Powers, The Overstory
By Marilyn Mazur
As an outdoor enthusiast, Marilyn Mazur feels blessed to have a home in Vermont where she is in touch with everything nature has to offer every day. Poetry writing inspires her to look more closely and feel more deeply. She writes mostly about nature, family and social issues.
A dead tree is just as useful as a living one, it just attracts different hosts.