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Arboretum Autumn

By Rohan Scott 


More gift of the watery sky, no Indian summer in sight

Rain and fog, grain sodden to bog.

I tread the mudded trail cutting the planted rows.

Rhododendron, Hydrangea, purple Verbena

Nomenclature serves no barrier in the floral wonder

Hues of periwinkle and mauve dusted with water drop


A clearing announces my arrival at the steps of the wood

I am greeted by a solitary maple

Who directs me to seek shelter under the arboreal cluster

Thank you and farewell, leaving it alone, again.


The beechen canopy wipes the rain off my shoulders

As I wander into the dark and dank

Interspersed are fir and pine following no forested rank

The needle littered floor presses a waft of wet loam

My eyes spin above my person

Enamoured by these silent sentinels


My feet wander through this towering grove

I am drawn along the trail to the feet of a champion

The great Wellingtonia peers down at me

Standing over a hundred feet

To ease the crane and strain, its lowest limb gestures a seat


I scan its blood shale bark, its samphire leaves

I’m speechless.

No, I have so much to say – but you can’t hear me?

A wind carried whisper corrects me,

It listens closely to my thoughts,

Bestowing momentary solace –

To be alone, In company,

With a newfound friend.

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