by Aidan Andrew Dun

tra mmm

Down by the river
stands a giant tree
a century towering
there in silence.

A girder of the natural
world must be the
greying prisoner
of its eminence.

But look where a
wooden viaduct of green
transcends the basic
root-life underneath

Ornament of the void:
this serene, lonely
reaching-out of
the furthest leaf.

Here is our transmarine!
All people, regard this
bridge from one side
to the other run.

To span a different
zone of air is hard:
we all shall overpass
before we are done.

She comes to meet us
on a bridge, they say
in the crossing of
that final day.