Rachel Lovejoy - Poetry

Rachel Lovejoy - An Author's Journey

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Poetry



Through the Trees
At some point along my writing journey, I began a conversation with trees. It must have been back when I lived in the woods of Lyman, Maine. But it could also date back further than that, back to when I stood beneath the single tree in the field behind our apartment in Biddeford and imagined myself in a deep forest.








Each entry here was inspired by something I saw in a tree, some aspect of it or of its existence, or something it told me. Yes, trees talk. And here, I let you in on some of our more meaningful conversations.

Through The Trees






Trees
...even when I am not with you
I am with you
if only looking out my window
at you shedding your fall attire and waiting to don
your winter finery

a few of you left recently
decimated by the tree service
saws

I sat by watching as they
toppled you sent you crashing to the ground
where you sent shudders through me for
the last time and then

someone came to erase what was left
grind away at your soul
at the records of your years
your dust fell
mingled with the soil
and then I went out
to claim you
to scatter as much as I could of you
among my flowers
where you will never be forgotten
at least not by them

and now it's as if nothing was
ever there at all
as if you'd never stood there
straining beneath the taller trees that had
the advantage all along but you never gave up
reaching for the sun
ever

nor will I

ever

10/23/16

Trees

...I long for you
as for lost lovers
the ache that deep
that persistent
that cloying
I was not there
for your passing
for like a lover's death
I could not have
fathomed yours
could not
have answered the
why
will live with
the void
where you once were
forever
My mind's eye
places me there
where again
I walk among you
only now
it is among shadows
of what once was
when love lived there
I drift
over your remains
rise like an offering
over your tombs
the things
he forgot to cut
still trying
so hard
to protect
to comfort
I rise like a bird
high upon a current
gaze down
move my hand
in a slow blessing
across the ruined hillside
offer my caress
my condolence
my hush

9/3/12

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