- Vol. 08
- Chapter 08
Not my family tree
When the mother tree died Beech chose me.
Me, a sullen sapling, she force fed with sugar solution.
She, self-appointed forest queen, content in her cathedral
of branches, always well dressed in her seasonal attire.
She began to bore me with her constant root-chatting
her fungal fingers soon got beneath my bark
screaming at my fragile roots should I take an extra drink
or engage in leaf dropping.
I must escape this bullying dominance, I long for the freedom
of the wind-blown Willow.
I need to own my own pain.