Tree Magic

Along banks and edges of paths and fields,
trees watch; their branches lances
sharp enough to pierce, their leaves shields.

What we think are hollow trunks, devoid
of sap and bark, that rise from ponds
still as looking glass, are ragged shadows

of wet birch and ash, wizard wands
that trick us into thinking reeds are grass
and stinking bogs are summer meadows.

Kim M. Russell, 2017

Tree Magic

Photograph taken by David Russell (I left my camera at home when we went for a walk today)

My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Out of Standard – Writing Unseen

Isadora has set us a challenge to defy the conventions of a particular theme and find new places in the everyday. She says that today’s prompt is fairly simple. We should write a poem about something we can’t see fully, whether it’s the sea monster draped in darkness or just the silhouette of a lover blotted out by the sun, we are all intrigued with the details that exist but escape our sights. All poems must be something shiny and new.

29 thoughts on “Tree Magic”

  3. If those trees are in a swamp or drowned land, I imagine the roots rotted. Along the east coast here in the states, we have tons of acreage with these drowned trees – usually cypress, cedar, and oak. I love your take on these trees – the wizard wands. I am re-reading the Harry Potter series (for the umpteenth time) and I think a wand made from one of the trees would bring about some ghostly results.

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    1. I’d never seen them around here before. They were quite eerie and I found myself mesmerised by them. I have a curly willow wand I made from a branch that fell from our tree. I painted, varnished and decorated it with ribbons for a Harry Potter evening I ran at the library. Enjoy your re-read, Toni!

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  5. Kim, I really like how you’ve chosen to portray the mucky bog in its splendor and mystery, or rather it’s subterfuge. Clever, clever, clever!!!!!

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    1. Thank you, Isadora! We’re off to Cley on the North Norfolk coast today, where there is a windmill and a beautiful stretch of beach with water fowl, shells and pebbles. I won’t forget my camera this time 😉

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  6. Depends on how old our eyes are as I know that as a young boy running wild I could conjur up in my mind any scene in scrubby woodlands or dirty streams to please my adventurous mind…but I was lucky and WW2 was on and us kids were unstoppable.

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