Hole in the forest by Michael Dransfield

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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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