"The Western Hemlock" by Alan Hill
Poetry
The Western Hemlock
Older than the house, it bullies the yard hides midnight in its branches silent, dark pockets of yesterday, unknowable moments of the unexpressed. Sometimes there is bird song, arterial Crow call, then a nothingness that is louder still the song that cannot be heard the Eagles nest that cannot be seen in a crown held kingdom wide as a serving plate, circled with bone filled with the stolen, lost, watches, wallets of a generation. Sometimes, I think I will climb, search for the dark, invisible, although I know by the time I get there what I am looking for, will be gone.
About the Poet:
Alan Hill uses his poetry to make sense, find form, in the chaos around him. Occasionally he has success. His latest book, 'In The Blood' was published by Caitlin Press in 2022.