A Piece of Eucalyptus Bark

A PIECE OF EUCALYPTUS BARK

A layer, long, seen from back--dark brown
With light brown thread-like fibers
That were soft curls with broken ends;
The bark was backlit, sent out flashes
Where there were cracks. This piece
Of bark had been punched from the trunk
By the wind’s fist, but still partially hung
To its place of origin, swayed and stumbled
If about to fall. This scene was
The plentitude of my morning, but had
Its tragic implications of the end of something.
Another day had begun with the discovery
Of the unexpected, the bark, and the sound
Of feathers moving rapidly. Cedar Wax Wings
Hovered over a tall tree ripe with Japanese plums.
The yellow on their feathers vibrated
Against the yellows of the fruit.
This aimlessly wandering in my backyard
Probably will be the only time
I will not waste today,
As I settle down with a mind of rhetoric
To write a long letter to a lover.


Duane Locke

Posted over on 4*9*1