It seem
s to have fallen upon me
To be the one that assembles a tree
From its scattered limbs and leaves
Broken trunk, bark and branches
And like a god I start
To take piece and part
Aligned to my careful plan
I build span by span
But when I look at my space
Bark and branches are missing
Leaves lost from their proper place
Limbs awry and twisting
I scrabble on the ground
To find the missing parts
But as I look down and around
I see the failure of my black arts
To finalise my creation perfectly
I seek new bark and the right leaves
Straighten limbs and branches
To complete my best tree
Which grows unknowingly in my absence.
Andrew James Whalan 