Inspired by the poem ‘Little Tree’ by e e cummings.
How could I hope to comfort you?
You with your feet hacked off,
your roots left behind –
left behind to be nourished –
fed by your mothers and aunts,
by those unwilling to let go
of the remnants of an existence that once
was you.
Whilst I?
I have nothing to offer you
by way of sustenance – just
cruel heat,
toast, and
death.
Copyright owned by Jay Cool, January 2020
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
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Published by The Silly-Savvy Salopian
Freelance writer and descendant of the cave dweller and outlaw, Humphrey Kynaston. Banished from Shropshire for my eccentricity, I have made my home in Suffolk. I write poetry, short stories, travel journals, comedy gig reviews and non-fiction articles. My wish is to write my way back into the heart of my birth land. All writing commissions (and free holidays in Shropshire!) considered.
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