hollow trunk

The twisted, long dead, rotted out trunk
that stands outside the cabin
a sculpted monument to time’s ceaseless erosion
reaches out to nothingness

Streaked dark and wet above, blond and tan beneath
with the bleaching of countless rainy days like this one

The once solid timber, now soft and powdery inside
has been a home to numberless bugs and worms

Abandoned cobwebs adorn it’s decayed interior
It stands alone in ageless hoary decrepitude
A beautiful paean to death

our long standing friend,
who needs not speak
but shows the way

2003