











I wonder, as with love and hate,
which came first-
bark almost buried blind
or the sweet lie of this lichen grown over
as if you where the breath to its lung,
the furrow to its field, the ground to its grass,
the remnants of its final stand.
All words and photographs by Damien B Donnelly
Patricia M Osborne
Lovely pictures and poem. Trees have so many stories to tell.