Inside a Tree

i wish i could give
you the beauty of this tree
how (even in all this)

rusted bars dirty
glass framed with grime and plastic
tubes roaring air-con

dust clad window noise
little pieces of wire
strung bits of stuff tied

around frayed man-made
edges and old broken pipes,
yet remains a life.

half-way up an old
bricked wall rope ladder wet moss
hidden behind a

delicate fray of
gentle roots cascading green
life while dark street sounds

rise up through this tree
enormous yet bringing far
below up to me

inside. a life yet
surrounded in a city
has remained a tree.

© 2016 Melinda Irvine


  1. I love your haiku especially the one on weeds, a topic that when mentioned in poetry is usually done so in a derogatory fashion. There is a book celebrating the beauty and necessity of weeds. I wish I could find it again

    1. Thank you John, this is a really lovely message. I truly love writing haiku and I’m so pleased to know you like my work. I’m not sure if you are from Australia or not, but I’ll assume you aren’t.

      Here in Australia there is a very common thinking that if it wasn’t made in Australia it’s no good, and that same thinking crosses so many facets of our lives here including the humble weed. I appreciate you noticing that in my poem.

      Only last week I was in the Blue Mountains of NSW photographing and haikuing the early summer wildflowers and was chastised by my mother for honouring weeds and plants not native to Australia. Actually all I saw were roadsides and the edge of the forest swept in bold yellows and other bright ‘weedie’ colours.

      Merry Christmas John and thank you once again for the lovely message.


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