An oak tree- Poem of the week: The Year of the Tree by Katherine Gallagher

An oak tree

 

The Year of the Tree

I carried a tree
through the Underground.
It was hard. At first,
people scarcely noticed me
and the oak I was lugging
along the platforms –
heavier than a suitcase
and difficult to balance.
We threaded through corridors,
changing lines: up and down stairs,
escalators, and for a moment
I imagined everyone on the planet
taking turns
to carry a tree as daily rite.
A few people asked
Why a tree?
I said it was for my own
edification –
a tree always
has something to teach.
•
Sharp gusts
whirred through the corridors
rustling the branches
as I hurried on
past the sweepers
picking up rubbish, scraps of paper.
Be sure to take the tree
with you, they said.
Don't worry, I'm taking it
to my garden,
the start of a forest.
When people stared,
Relax, I said,
it's a tree, not a gun.


 http://www.arcpublications.co.uk/book.php?description_id=403

Year of the Tree from----

Katherine Gallagher

Carnival Edge: New and Selected Poems

“To be able to follow, within a single volume, the evolution and refinement of a poet of Gallagher's subtlety and integrity is a fascination in itself. At its best, this is delicate, straight talking - a poetics that yokes inner generosity to outward reticence, a guileless paredness reminiscent of outback. Coming in from the heat, it's not always clear whether these poems dance or simply walk; but with a turn of phrase, a shoe-tight image, an elegant sleight of foot, everything is transformed. Reading Gallagher, one recognises there are ways of walking that are also dance.” Mario Petrucci
“Katherine Gallagher is ‘a fervent watcher' of the world. Like the watcher in her poem “Orchid” (from the sequence La Fleuraison) she is also ‘a global traveller', and this informs all of her work. Her past, that ‘antipodean patchwork', is also a rich resource comprising memory and discovery, a place ‘where weather's a way of life'… Landscape, war, family, the gains and losses of life, plus aerial meditations during long flights - all shine forth in the wide range of her subject matter, wrought in vivid colours. Gallagher is a poet of the eye, the rainbow and of all the feeling senses. In “Manifesto”, from the final section of new poems which crown this volume, she says: ‘… Bring out your gambler, / risk-taker. Surprise yourself.' This book attests to the energy and insight of that statement.” Penelope Shuttle