Self-Portrait as Dryad, No. 5
After Andy Goldsworthy’s
Sweet chestnut green horn
each leaf laid in the fold of another
stitched with thorns
Yorkshire Sculpture Park, West Bretton
9 August 1987
Thorn-pinned, the leaf horn
Sang of silences to trees,
Calling green-lit morn
And me. Song was meant to please
Yet to let me know
He who made the horn
Played to pluck me from my tree.
The carrion crow,
Creaky as a worn
Hinge, cawed as the canopy
Quaked and let me go.
His limbs are hawthorn
Flowers, white, a bed of ease.
Mine are melting snow.
Now that dreams are shorn
And heartwood betrayed by leaves,
Only grief may grow:
Better never born
Or dead than severed from trees—
Breathless in barrow.
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