Tree at My Window
Snieckus, Darius victor
Tree at My Window By spring, the lone unnamed tree looked like it would be left standing rooted dead on its feet before the doorway of the Guilford Hotel. A bicycle tyre lugged high into still...
...Darius Victor Snieckus...
...A bicycle tyre lugged high into still winter-wet branches hung as some past celebratory wreath...
...a broken lower limb dangled from its red bark...
...Alive, the tree lifts its thousand-mouthed canopy above the idle diesel gutturals of through-traffic tailing back in two directions, waiting for the light to change again from amber...
...Finally, late, the foreign shape of its leaves started to show: rude, white buds opening coronal, until wheel and bough were hidden to the eye by green...
Vol. 130 • November 2003 • No. 20
