Driftwood by Stephen Douglas

I used to be a tall strong pine tree

In Manawatu hills beyond thee

With branches wide and green;

Habitat for wild birds and bees,

A shelter to wondering Kiwi

Calling place for Morpork and Tui,

From which plenty could be seen.

Pine cones, the measure of my serene

And fertile place; as I grew by degree

Not hindered by some human decree,

Nestled in the forested hills you see.

I grew from a wild jubilant seed

Carried by a special autumn breeze

That landed me right side up, for no fee.

You may find it too difficult to believe

What you’ve read (heard) is what I used to be

Now I am driftwood parked by the sea.

But if you be willing; close an eye

Look to the top of the hill (the key

Is to imagine) a pine, frail and wee

Clinging with young roots, all three

To moistened rock and soil, tee-

Ter-ing between ‘let go or grow’, the

Spot for true emotional topography.

But I did it! . . I held on to being me,

Now I’m driftwood for photography!

Waitaere Beach, Levin, New Zealand

© stephen c douglas, 23/02/2008