I don't often write what I see directly the way one would take a photograph or sketch or paint, but here (for once) I actually tried to do it.... but I still couldn't help adding how it made me feel about it.

Beached Bamboo

It lay incongruous:
At an angle oblique to its own belonging,
Languishing lonely between retreating tide
And the blind feet of the Good Friday beach brigade
Displaced,
Disinherited,
Denied even a footnote
In the watermargin of either world,
A shadow of its former self,
Reduced in circumstances and stature:
Stunted;
Truncated;
Torso slit and split from navel to neck,
Innards systematically shredded
By the assiduous attrition of salt and sun.

One knot remained resolute,
Its tightly-drawn integrity
Girding and guarding
Its fast-failing fibre ‘wives’,
Husbanding them,
Hopelessly,
Heroically,
To the very last vestige of its tender tension.

Tomorrow there would be another leaving,
Another landfall to test its ring of wedded resolve;
But for today;
Today it had been enough.

Published June 30, 2010 Write a comment
To write comments please login or join.
Add this poem to your "I recommend you to read" list? Confirm
Want to delete this comment?   Confirm or Close