Whose woods these are I think I know
my friend Candy
posted her
Not for sale
sign here
ten months before she died
i should have known,
that evening of our twentieth high school reunion
when she didn’t show up
and no one knew her address nor number
that I could have looked behind
the ancient beech and oak
on
the banks of the Delaware
on Riverside Drive
The Trenton historian said
that that oak was the
Last Rebel Standing
one of the few remaining trees
that witnessed
General Washington and his troops crossing the river
for the Battle of Trenton
the birth of our nation
Little Candace, with her five year old clairvoyance
picked the rebel tree for her rebel heart
hid there, placed her Jean Nate scent there
And cried her eyes against the ancient tree’s arms, it’s shedding bark absorbing her sweat
She didn’t just die in her sleep in an inner city tenement
she is there—within the wings of the guardian owl
sentinel of the lone canoe
This poem stirred my emotions – what a beautiful tribute to your friend! Such powerful imagery throughout and the last two lines expressing the theme beautifully:
‘she is there—within the wings of the guardian owl
sentinel of the lone canoe’