The delicate capillaries and roots
are suddenly released
to probe the earth beyond
their plastic walls, explore the open
soil, and gather it towards them as they
travel where our eyes can’t follow,
branching out like hands - like limb
and twig above the ground - beneath.
The olive tree is travelling invisibly
in space and time; you see its leaves:
each represents a delving
deep in sun-warmed loam;
each step nudging the unknown
a journey that will round in fruit,
bitter, darkly haematoid about the bone.
Planting an Olive Tree
© Copyright: Jena Woodhouse, 2003
Свидетельство о публикации №103022200206
Свидетельство о публикации №103022200206
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