Morwydd: The Mulberry Trees Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Grotesquely gnarled and warped
Two mulberries lean creaky towards each other
Like ancient lovers

Their bark is warty and bulbous as a toper’s nose
They are Elephant man in the final stage of living
A ghastly gash in the side of the taller tree
Is filled with plaster, like a surgical cast
Clapped on by a clumsy medic, ‘do not resuscitate’
Their hideous carbuncles are whiskery with twigs
You half expect them to cackle

The elder of the pair is leaning its weight
Onto a sturdy prop, like a Chelsea Pensioner’s stick
No birds alight on their branches
Which writhe like Medusa’s hair

A berry-eyed buck rabbit crops the grass
Its small teeth snish and snash
In the pulsing fur of its jowls
Its ears, two wings of skin
Are almost translucent