The harsh scream of a power saw –
in a towering fir, a man climbing
awkwardly upward, intent on baring
the trunk, until –
with a muted crash the top few metres
fall to the ground.
The felling of any tree arouses sadness,
but when I look again,
I can only sense gratitude –
a whole new view has opened up
between the distant hillside woods
and the nearer houses –
an open meadow, an ascending line
of bare trees, marking what seems
a footpath, leading –
in a brief moment my view has widened,
drawing my gaze towards it –
a new scene to re-invent,
to invest with meaning.
Richard Martin is an English writer who lives in the Netherlands close to the point where Belgium, Germany and Holland meet. After retiring as a university teacher in Germany, he turned his attention to writing, and has published three collections of poetry and numerous poems in magazines in England, the US, and Austria.