Sensors trip the doors,
consumers are exchanged, a
Breath of the world rushes in,
sighs, and is truncated.
A triumph for development,
over the audacity of democracy, a
Marvel the sanitary dendrium,
seamless in situ transfer.
Drip irrigation and drainage,
sustain the containerised roots, a
Limitation addressed by fertilizer,
a pot, a cell, a sentence.
A timber deck surrounds,
suspended over rootplate, a
Trees’ flesh promises mortality,
Delivering freedom to breathe.
Mulch and root trips absent,
leaves and sticks a nuisance, a
Constant source of debris,
spoiling pristine artificial paradise.
Never again the wind or rain,
to rustle or clean its crown, an
Emptied abode by bark and branch,
A sterile, solitary confinement.
Commercial ventures come and go,
nature thwarts currencies flow, a
Burden engineers must overcome,
to beige the green to prosper.
Glen and plain by Kaurna glance,
Sabre winds off Southern Ocean, a
Valance the glass and steel,
indignant spirit of endurance.
Solitary confinement indeed, how do we expect the very same therapy indoors (in huge concrete planes) when we strangulate them in artificial air and light... I'm now feeling terrible, I am the grim reaper of plants (family joke) and I've just remembered to feed them. Their daily fight for survival down to a fool like me., , bravo to a beautiful piece which may remind me of my duty.., thank you. Karen
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I think that I shall never see a poem as lovely as a tree. However, it sounds like this tree is a bit of a love-hate relationship for you. Still a good poem, though.