in the threads of her taproots.
Her heartwood tells the story of rain,
seasons of dry sorrow and wind.
In her knuckled branches,
in her silver leaves, rests
the memory of birdsong,
both spring-song and loss-song.
Smooth wormed scars and shedding
bark speak of her particular patience with stars,
her life-long collusion with the sun.
Each fall, she promises fruit for strange hands
for as long as she is able. Her gift,
shaken loose and gathered into nets,
pressed into slick resilience
year after year after golden year.
Poem by Ellen Rowland
Ellen Rowland writes poetry and prose inspired by the natural world and human connections. She is the author of Everything I Thought I Knew, a collection of essays about living, learning and parenting outside the status quo. Her work has recently been featured in Braided Way Magazine, Rue Scribe and the 2020 poetry anthology Pivot and Pause. She and her family live in an off the grid farmhouse on a tiny island in Greece. Connect with her at https://amuddylife.com