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Portrait of a Huon Pine

Portrait of a Huon Pine

The children run around me now,
ancient, immovable, ravaged by time
They can count the winter's dark notes,
spun centripetally round, by the glacial force
of the wind

And here's the line of beauty, through
my barked love, a thread, from the knot
heart at my centre, spooling out,
where the moss fed, and dew gathered in
pools innumerable

In death now, you may view me,
segmented, displayed with informative cards,
describing time in ways too abstract,
for beings, gone, such as we

You can follow my map out of the cold,
spread flat over centuries,
older than old, or anything,
in your time,

Nothing offends me now, I am felled,
and my last act of contrition is deemed to be
here, displayed;

and I've worn out this rubbed coat,
time and again, year on year,
you'll find me in the place they call,
"Natural History",

where the children who run around
and around, are gone, until, I am unhooded
for all to see, next year.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
This is a portrait of a tree that was several hundred years old, possibly five hundred plus. there are examples of Huon Pine in Tasmania - that have been around a lot longer, saw the dark ages, and the plagues through, wars, kings queens, great houses rise and fall. The curious thing about it is, when it does fall, it's one of the timbers that can be harvested hundred of years later, and it will not have rotted one bit. I will post some research on it at a later date if requested. These giants, are now largely gone from our natural habitat in large numbers,as they were very actively felled for their excellent qualities for building ships and floors, and the early colonial residences - they still grow, and supposedly 85 percent of the protected areas where they are - should be :"off limits" - but that's quite a contentious issue down here. A couple of perspectives: Thanks Chris.
Editing stage: 


I think the word "now" is placed in the wrong spot in the first line. It somehow made me think the children were the ones ravaged by time lol. Hmmm... maybe "Now children run around me"? But the poem is good and initiates interest in those old trees. Here in the states the Red Woods get the most attention in their towering groves. But it's the humble twisted bristle cone pines which were alive before Christ walked the earth..............stan

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