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This poem is taken from PN Review 165, Volume 32 Number 1, September - October 2005.

Eight Poems John Wells

The Forester: Five for S.A.

1. A Felling

For hard hat, you wore a knitted green cap
To keep woodchips and oil out of your hair.

Poised on its wooden hinge, the enormous beech
Seemed to leap from its base, swung ruinously
Through the air;
                            a slow shock, a long crash -
Branches shattering under their own weight
As the wide canopy folded in on itself,
Continuing to collapse while the trunk lay jammed
Against the gouged-up rubble of the coomb-side.

A shallow root tearing up from where you stood,
You toppled back lightly, chainsaw in hand
- Its blade as long, almost, as you were tall.

2. A Morning Shot

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