by JANE DOWNING
She lies across the river’s constant flow
branches once intent upon the sky
now prone, reaching for the other side
ripples skirting her brittle crown
How quickly colour bled from her limbs –
toppled by erosion, a last quake below
any roughness in the bark cracked and littered
trunk now smooth as bone
A ball of hard dirt hangs off the bank
roots solid as steel rods wrenched, exposed
ending in gnarled fingers and soft tendrils
waving their last on gusts of wind
On either side a red gum thrives
as a lesson: fate takes us in our own time
Noreuil Park, Albury, NSW