|ancient olive on the banks of Le Gard, Pont du Gard, |
An ancient tree for one of the oldest days of the year.
An Ancient Tree
We could believe that your kind has waited here
since a footsore legionary, ordered in to carry cut stone,
ate his lunch of gravel-bread, boiled egg and olives,
in the manner of footsore legionaries,
spun seeds to the sun,
stretched out under a plank of scaffolding,
leaving the remains of lunch and resinous wine,
snoring fit to frighten the birds from the cliff-edge,
and summoned back to work the afternoon watch,
left lunch and stones for tourists to pluck over two thousand solstices later.
Poets will believe you descended from such legionary ancestors.