Hole in the forest by Michael Dransfield


When the tree is felled

the bark is made into a boat

the sweetest wood into a lute

the branches roof a house


the hole where the tree grew

soon greens with fern

the hole in the forest

remains the colour of the sky


and people have

no way of hiding the tree’s huge death


Source:  A second Australian Poetry Book compiled by Barbara Giles (Oxford University Press, 1983)


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