Poetry by Lucinda Trew

      Nicolas Erwin CC




when trees fall
 
from natural cause – nor’easterns, drought
decrepitude – they lean in, one upon another 
                a prayer of knotty hands


we pray, too, in other ways, holding one another  
close in crook and crutch of branch, and nests
                for those in need of cradling 


we unfist fingers, unwind clocks, hold one another
in a basketweave of leaf and twig and comforting
                like trees, we slant 


against wind and time, hearts and boughs that break 
from storm and thorn and toppled crowns 
                we ease one another 


to ground, to the resting place of forest floor
to beds of moss and tender mercies yielding to ash
               as we all fall down

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Lucinda Trew is a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee and recipient of Boulevard Magazine’s 2023 Poetry Contest for Emerging Poets. Her work has been published in Susurrus Magazine, Eastern Iowa Review, Burningword Literary Journal, storySouth, and elsewhere. She lives and writes in North Carolina with her jazz musician husband, two dogs, one cat, and far too many (or never enough?) books to count.