Welcome to my new series, Poetry Pause!
I'll be sharing a poem (written by me or someone else) inspired by how I'm feeling and what's on my mind regularly. What's regularly? Weekly? Monthly? We'll find out as we go. They will also be on my insta!
This week, as everyone else seems to be barrelling towards Christmas, I am clutching onto Autumn, like the trees that still have the dried leaves attached to their twigs. I wrote this poem, inspired by that phenomenon a couple of years ago, and it crossed my mind as I cycled to work the other day. I hope you enjoy it!
Apologies for the slightly manic look in my eyes 😅
Marcescence
To shrivel in Latin.
To wither but persist.
You’ve probably seen it in Oak trees
but haven’t known what it is.
Marcescence.
Abscission unrealized.
Incision delayed.
Unwilling to cut off the nose to spite the face.
The veins left open, slightly, just in case.
Marcescence.
To press pause when you should
have pressed play.
Emerald now umber, a mere shadow remains.
All you’ve done is postpone the inevitable flay.
Marcescence.
Protection. Security.
Shelter. Stores.
Evolutionary purpose uncertain, unsure.
You can ask why but a tree won’t retort.
Marcescence.
To understand the science,
I am uninterested in.
We have all held on with threadbare justification.
We have all held on, past the point of reason.
Marcescence.
How light it must feel, at last
to let go
after all that clutching
but also, how hollow.
Marcescence.
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