Sunday, December 13, 2015

OUTSIDE MY FRONT DOOR THERE IS A TREE



THE SEASONS PASS; LET GO
Bare are the branches of the trees save for one,
where a few bonds of leaves stubbornly cling.
Through wind and rain, dead to life and green,
Yet still tenacious in grip, in posthumous being.

Frozen in their rigor yet dancing even in death.
It is a cold frozen dirge this tune played by breezes.
It be a mystery to me how or why they still stay when
all the other dead things have long been bagged and tagged.
taken; but for these very dead frozen few that won’t let go.

These are them that just hang on,
keeping the skeletal sleeping branch company.
Not ready to be forgotten, wanting all the world
to remember them in their former glory of life giving green.

I suppose. I think. I wonder. I ponder. Yet still have no answer.
Why this lone sole tribe remains throughout the night and cold.
The winter days, nothing left to give, nothing left to say
‘cept for their wind caused rattling of leaf bones that mean so little
to the very many who never bother to listen or look up anyway.

The wonder of death never loses its appeal.
What causes some to try to hang on others to simply let go?
I will join the leaves but for once I’d fly away with the majority,
My legacy will not be cold bones and brittle bodies in decay,
only the memory of the one good I did in one season ‘fore I went away.

© M Durfee
12/13/15



24 comments:

  1. as much as i fear death, i will let go. there will come a time and i will know it when it arrives.
    i like the dual writing too, suitable to the viewers choice of eyes *smiles*

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    1. Shadow why fear death? I can understand being cautious over the manner of its coming but the event itself *meh* fearing it does no good, ruins an otherwise perfectly good day that can be wasted doing something better with the mind, like riding or skinny dipping or simply bringing more emotion to the table than just about any writer I know. Those things are all much better of a way to waste time than fearing death which is actually a nonproductive waste of time.

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  2. I always admire the leaves that hang on. I don't know if I feel quite the same about the people.

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    1. There is that connection too Charles, I decided to not delve into it though--too whiny.

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  3. Those leaves are a visual reminder of what that tree once was. Once they are gone some people will look at the tree and have a memory of its green days, others won't. Same for people. Some will remember them for what they were, some won't.

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    1. That's a very pragmatic point Myriam. You know at one time like 60% of the street lights were out in Detroit, but over the past couple of years they have replaced almost 100% of them with new LED lights. Oddly enough when the trees are in full leaf the lights are not really effective at all. I think of that as I look atr all the naked trees and can see much more because the light is exposed.

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  4. To many forgotten, to many scarred,......Too many sacrificed for a Country with no loyalty or love.....for her own children, who gave their all.......for people safe at home , lost in their own selfishness,,,,,who only, when assaulted by a personal loss, chose to speak out. You poem is awesome AWESOME !! I would REALLY APPRECIATED READING MORE OF YOUR WORK OR BUY A BOOK THAT U WROTE. Please call or eamil me Jack Grenan jackgrenan@netscape.net 6164147246 Mark I am 63 a sryivor of 4th stage colon cancer & a 3 month coma with a constant 106 degree fever. I died...Very blessed semi retired Psychologist...I help people everyone else gives up on. I look forward to meeting /speaking with a great guy and VERY insightful & kind ___YOU!!

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  5. Mark you are the only true poet of my acquaintance. I'm so glad you still write; I never come away unfazed. I really enjoyed this poem.

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  6. Sounds like oaks, some of which drop leaves all winter just to taut those who rake the leaves... Good thoughts here.

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    1. No Jeff they are Japanese something or other, I asked once but don't remember what, just that they were put in for their growth rate and disease resistance.

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  7. Seriously?

    I typed one comment - ONE. I fully type one whole comment in like a 2 years and something weird happened and the comment screen turned grey and I seriously can't tell if it saved or not. Than I did it AGAIN. I still don't know if this will be my THIRD comment showing or my last strike out of the night.

    I mean, how does one fuck up pressing Publish? Twice?

    Now I remember: I don't comment, YOU do. I'm the student, you're the teacher. FINE, GOT IT. LMFAO. Even the fucking computer knows it.

    (Anyway: I really liked the poem. So there. But you're such a goddamned good writer that I always find myself overthinking things, and death isn't the best topic for me to overthink. I don't know why you think the last line is the best, there are plenty I like better.)




    to the very many who never bother to listen or look up anyway
    (that one, for instance)

    ~DM
    Love you

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    1. Eventually everything does DM for good or bad. You wouldn't be you if you didn't think about the things you think about, that isn't over thinking, it's right amount thinking. And i said the last line breaks the meter, not that it was my favorite--I rarely pick out a single line and tell myself how clever it is. Only a dufus would do that. Bwahahahaha

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  9. Hmmm...our thoughts were kind of branching out along the same vein, it seems.
    I know the leaves of which you speak.

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    1. Denise, yeah I had the same thought when I saw that picture. It's cosmic harmony.

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  10. I have those stubborn leaves too, while the rest have drifted in mulch ~ I admire the last stanza Mark ~ I will fly away too, leaving some good happy memories ~

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    1. Thanks Grace, you know I just don't get it really only the tree in front of my house, which is the exact same kind of deciduous tree the city planted after the great Dutch Elm Disease die off (that was heartbreaking seeing all that beauty deforested)still has about a hundred or so dried up brown leaves that have hung on in 50+ mph gusts and winds.

      I think that spirit of creation does shit like this just to tease me.

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  11. Lovely poem about the circles of life, Master Poet Meowpappa ... best wishes ... Aalways, cat.

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    1. Thank you as usual Meowmomma, you are ever too kind to your meowpoppa.

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  12. Mark-You are Blowing in the Wind Man!

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  13. Thank you Helen, just a good one beauty is not my strong suit. But thank you and you're welcome her anytime.

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So Walking Man I was thinking...