It struck the bough half way along its lengthat the moment I chanced to be looking out
across the field towards the old oak.
Rather a forlorn tree, not the majestic
symmetrical shape you see in books
and standing alone at the head of a ragged hedge.
And yet it framed the window perfectly,
and it seemed unfair that it should be singled out
for such a ferocious, random attack. The lightening
felled the branch with a fizzing crack, and it
maintained a horizontal attitude as it fell
to the ground in slow motion, as the rain
hammered against the glass pane, the whole event
seeming oddly detached from reality,
and I searched for some divine meaning
but found none; a random act of nature;
and returned to my work, looking up some
half hour later to see the tree slowly burning
from its base, the flames eventually dying
to a pyre of smoke, doused by the still
teeming rain, and realizing I had witnessed
a random act of nature defying nature.
The tree lives on, still rather forlorn,
but every inch a king.
John H Davies
4th February 2011
Really like this one - a very busy poem, in a good way. I especially like how the lightning strike itself is so fleeting. It happens within a beat.
ReplyDeleteDetailed critical analysis on my blog: http://unseenflirtspoetry.wordpress.com/2011/02/07/john-h-davies-fractured-limb/
-Unseen Flirt
Thank you for a most thoughful and erudite critique of my poem - it is a real treat to have your work disembled into its component parts - especially when poems often start almost spontaneously or sunconsciously - very helpful, and I commend your site to anyone interested in the form
ReplyDeletehttp://unseenflirtspoetry.wordpress.com/
My pleasure! I'm always wary of over-analysis, but there's always something to be gained from detailed deconstruction. I'm fascinated by poetry and always find that close reading enriches appreciation.
ReplyDeleteAnyway, will be continuing to read your work - thanks for sharing.
-Unseen Flirtations