Lately,
on walks,
I’ve been struck by the quiet violence
endured by trees.
Some slow, lurching force
has boiled up from their hearts,
erupted onto their bark,
leaving cracks.
Some cracks are deep;
symmetrical.
Others tear unevenly
across the surface.
I yearn to ask:
Did it hurt?
These trunks bear
the battle scars of time – tallied
not as minutes
or years,
but a constellation
of ponderous cracks.
![Close-up image of a tree trunk with long, deep cracks](https://www.yuelianhong.com/content/images/2022/09/IMG_7026-1.jpg)
This poem is a contribution to the 1st STSC Symposium, a monthly collaboration from STSC's writers around a set theme. Our topic this month is Beauty.