![](https://reflectionsontheteche.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/poetry-friday-2024.jpg?w=300)
I take inspiration for writing from many sources, but one of my favorites is Pádraig Ó Tuama’s Poetry Unbound. A few weeks ago, he featured sections of a poem by Joy Harjo. I listened, then read the whole poem. I was reminded of a conversation I had with my husband when we passed road construction on the way to visit the doctor.
Two weeks ago, my husband was mauled by a German shepherd. He’s going to be okay, but his calves were pretty torn up and he’s had two surgeries so far for repair and debridement. This is the kind of thing that turns your world on its edge, just checking in to see if you’re paying attention.
When I am thrown into a deep hole, I make my way out by writing poetry. Joy Harjo inspired this one. It may help to know that Jeff is a real estate attorney.
Road Construction
As we pass the road construction,
he told me the owners agreed
to the sale if they saved the tree.
The tree is gone; one hundred years
of life gone for a road.We don’t know how long we have.
How long until a dog escapes its fence
and takes you down to the bone.This land does not belong to us to give.
The house on the corner did not own the tree;
it was not theirs to give, but there’s the empty space
filled with mulch, the former bark
of a tree giving up its life for a road.Margaret Simon, (c) 2024
First, I am so sorry about your husband’s injury, Margaret! I hope that he is ok. What happened to him is scarring on both physical and emotional levels. I hope that you are ok too. I understand what you mean about an attack changing your sense of safety in the world. Wishing healing for both of you.
The attack must have been terrifying for your husband (and for you to hear about). So out of the blue! Thank you for giving the tree a poem.
I wasn’t going to post my response poem, but in solidarity, I guess I will.
[…] I wrote yesterday in response to This Photo Wants to be a Poem, but Margaret posted her poem “Road Construction,” so here I am in […]
Oh, Margaret, wow. So much here. It is a melancholy Friday full of poetry today. I’m struck with the sadness of the juxtaposition of “the owners agreed / to the sale if they saved the tree” and “the tree is gone”
The last stanzas about Jeff’s injury and the land that doesn’t belong to us are making me feel a lot right now. Peace and healing to you and Jeff.
I’m sorry to send you to melancholy. As you know, poetry helps processing all things good and bad. I will write about butterflies and flowers next week. We are truly doing OK. He is on his way to healing.
I am and have been petrified of strange to me dogs. I like dogs who are nice and I adore the grandones. So this gives me chills. I was chased, frightened by chained German Shepherd watch dogs near my home as a very young girl, I was bitten twice but not by vicious dogs, more of an accident situation. So I am leary but what happened to your husband sounds like a nightmare to me and am very happy he is healing I love how you captured it in a poem. On our street when they totally re-did it they had trees that had to come down for a variety of reasons. Some had to do with all of the underground pipes they had replaced and how they changed the pitch of the road. Our exit got steeper than anyone since we are in the middle of the block, and so our exit is bumpier than before but fine with us. We have so many old trees here. One giant bough just came off in a brief and windy almost storm. If anyone had been caught out walking and we have tons of walkers I worry. Not sure if the tree will come down. Luckily we have a very tree loving community and an official tree-replacement plan for the streets the village plants. As soon as I can I am going to make a choice of the one for our yard, but must research.
I saw bout Jeff, know it must be slow-going. Sending my best wishes for the injuries to be better every day! Along with that, the tree poem/story is sad, too, but people, in the everyday, moving in & taking space, the tree loses.
Such a heartfelt poem–“one hundred years of life gone for a road” pulls at my soul. So sorry about your husband’s dog incident–that’s really frightening (my Jeff ignored a dog bite from when he was biking until it turned into a raging infection. We drove to the ER on a Saturday night of memorial day weekend a few years back–not his smartest move.) I hope Jeff’s recovery goes smoothly.
So much happening in your poem, Margaret – the mauling of both husband/leg and land/tree. I am a huge Padraig fan, too!
I love what you’ve done with this poem…it captures so much emotion and I feel it. We really never do know what tragedy is coming or what joy. I’ve so enjoyed the O’Touma poems as well. I need to catch up on the ‘Poems as Teachers’ this weekend. I’ve listened to the first 2…maybe 3. This series has been the foundation of thought for many of us in the PF community and I love that we are having the conversation in the way that Mary Lee mentioned having with your photo from Wednesday. I am a fortunate person to be a part of this group.
Poignantly, beautifully stated truth in all of its … realistic, warts-and-all facets. Thanks for sharing your processing with us – this poem articulates and provokes so many complicated, difficult emotions so well. Brava, and sending well wishes of healing for both.
So sorry to hear about your husband, Margaret, and hoping for quick healing. Your line “We don’t know how long we have” jumped out at me as I heard of a few sudden deaths this week. Such an important reminder.
I’m so sorry to hear about your husband Margaret, sending healing ❤️🩹 thoughts your way. Your poem captures our raw emotions, and reminds us of the brevity of life, both a person and tree, and what’s important, thanks for wrestling with all here and sharing it.
Margaret, I’ve been thinking about your husband–such a traumatic thing to happen. I hope his recovery is proceeding okay! This poem is masterful. Masterful. Sending love.
I’m so sorry to hear about your husband’s injury, Margaret. Scary that life can change in the blink of an eye. Your poem captures so much emotion and information in so few words. “This land does not belong to us to give.” So true. *hugs*
So sorry to hear about your husband! That must have been such a horror to experience. I hope he heals quickly. And I’m grieving for that tree! It was not theirs to cut down and yet so many treat the earth like they own it.