Felling the Rowan Tree

Felling the Rowan Tree

Nov 25

Written By Alexis Leigh

A Poem by Nicholas Trandahl

I’ll add my melody

into the symphony of late autumn,

flocks of geese

overhead,

chimney smoke,

all the preparation,

I will tie this sorrow

into the tapestry,

swallow

the lump in my throat

with each bitter motion

of wood axe and saw,

fragrance

of rough work

and sore arms,

sawdust

gathering like snow

on frosty leaves,

battered boots,

sleeves of thick flannel

in clear November light,

brown leaves

shivering

with the labor

of chop

and saw,

chop

and saw,

milky fungus

just under the skin

revealed

like diseased flesh

under violent stroke

of blade,

and I mourn,

I mourn,

I mourn

this release,

this

letting go,

and I feel

as though I’ve dropped

everything

on the way

up this mountain,

and this hurts

like it all hurts,

wood

cracking,

grains

fracturing,

a push,

a lean,

a felling

into the brittleness

of death,

and I will miss

scarlet berries

in winter,

redder

than Charon’s eyes,

and I’ll miss

so much,

all the things

I thought

would last

forever,

but now,

but now,

a little more light

will come in

through the front window,

maybe

just a little

more light.

Nicholas Trandahl is an award-winning poet, journalist, outdoorsman, and veteran residing in northern Wyoming, where he currently also serves as mayor of his community. He has had five poetry collections published and has also been featured in numerous literary journals and anthologies. Trandahl has been awarded the Wyoming Writers Milestone Award and has received several nominations for the Pushcart Prize. Additionally, he works as poetry editor for The Dewdrop literary journal and as a contributor for The Way Back to Ourselves literary journal, while also serving as chairman of the annual Eugene V. Shea National Poetry Contest.

Follow him on instagram @nicholastrandahl
And keep a look out for his new poetry collection this Winter 2023!