Their Stories: Steel and Stone

This poem is a fragment of my original fiction “The World”. I’m re-writing the whole story and I don’t know where to put this poem in yet.

Steel and Stone

In well-worn shoes, with blistered hands
The farmer took a vow
That he would change to soil, the sands
“ The first step, here and now “

He turned his back to One-Four-Five
And journeyed to Beyond
Where no man, beast, nor plant could thrive
Before the sun had dawned.

Changed the desert, oh that he did
And well-known then was Steel
With one odd thing he never hid
Nor shamefully conceal

The blood-thorn tree which by his side
Would stay for days on end
Its deadly branches shook with pride
As if it was a friend.

Time then passed for man and for tree
Until it came, that day
“Together” could no longer be
The farmer passed away

His lifeless body laid to rest
In One-Four-Five’s domain
The tree stood watch and faced the west
And never moved again.

Its slate-grey trunk soon turned to white
Its thorns dropped to the ground
Weathered by rain, wind, and the light
It never made a sound

One night, fire raged in from the east
The blood-thorn tree stood still
Until the crimson fire had ceased
And night had naught but chill.

Since then no beast or plant had dared
Disturb the resting place
Acacia wordlessly declared
“ Here stands my final trace “

Some wonder if the tree still lives
Despite its stone-white gloom
In place of thorns, aurora weaves
Light on a single bloom.

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