Sarah St Vincent Welch #368 The Cork Forest

The Cork Forest

you led me to the Cork Forest

I could hardly talk

or walk

like a tree I had not moved

movement was pain

now I ask,

had I grown 

like a forest

whispering underneath?

I have craggy rippled skin

microbes under my soles

arterial roots

I grew after all, I believe, 

though I couldn’t see

and was slow

think of cork boards, 

wine stops,

flooring, 

life jackets,

bobbing on a brim,

coasters,

floating

all the products

some no longer needed

do not harvest me

let my thick skin grow

the scars of industry

on my trunk

I spread

I speak, and stumble

along the path

circle round again

Summers’ last wander

a healing

(inspired during Tree Week)