Her Leaning, Weeping Tree
She was more of a cinema girl than a botanist,
loved novels and hankies and romance,
and she loved the leaning tree
which seemed to weep, there, by the river.
So when (she was thirteen) the first boyfriend
walked away, she mourned beside her weeping tree.
And year by year, the boys would come and go,
embedded soon, sinking inwards, like the rings of a tree.
Years later, with John and the children,
she loved the tree which shadowed their play.
When John dumped her (the children now grown)
she would go again to her weeping tree.
The river, the breeze, some days the sunshine,
all these soothed her, until John was finally
(and surprisingly quickly) encased
in his bark-bound ring.
Robert Nisbet is a Welsh poet and sometime creative writing tutor at Trinity College, Carmarthen. He has been published widely and in roughly equal measures in Britain and the USA, appearing regularly in San Pedro River Review and Panoply. He is a Pushcart Prize nominee for 2020.