[Corneac]

It calms me,
The redwoods,
as they strike a pose to the sky,
a schoolmaster would have been proud
of their posture, their discipline,
but they transcend the air of authority
or the fear of the cane,
for they can be whittled and chopped
into shape, they can burned,
reduced ash and silt,
that runs through your fingertips,
black, disbelieving,
spine straight,
branches craned,
and it calms me,
I stand and look up,
and know you stood,
and looked,
admiring,
these redwoods too,

[Venomous Vixen]

Not your usual form here and yet it worked, like the tall unbroken trunk of a redwood. It almost made me feel guilty for having the pleasure of growing up in these trees myself, and everytime wondering how many others had stood before the same tree. I liked the comparison to the schoolmaster and the way they stand erect against the sky, perfect words for such ominous trees... and yet it is true they can be reduced to almost nothing... nice perspective. The personal touch at the end was what struck the most, tugged at the heart a bit that you were possibly missing someone and remembering as you stood before the tree. Anyway, another great one.

[Jimbalaya]

I've said it before: I'm no good with poetry. I don't get different structures or the different ways to match words, or not match them, it's a complete mystery to me. I do, however, understand words, well, a lot of them anyway.

I got a sense of loss from this. Loss and yearning. I liked it.

[dearest]

Lovely job! I love the image of ash that "runs through your fingertips, black and disbelieving". The redwood being reduced to ash...very powerful. A reminder that even the things we think could never change, like the relationship at the end of the piece, may change with time. Absolutely lovely. Oh, but I think you might have missed something:

of their posture, there discipline,

^_^ Should it be 'their'? Anways, great, great piece.

[Corneac]

Thanks you three....I appreciate your comments and I'm glad you enjoyed it. And cheers Fire for the edit...fixed it.