18 Comments
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Ann Collins's avatar

Ah, I relate to the quiet mourning in this one, Brian. Holding onto hope is, to me, one of the most endearing and fiercely human traits we have. Sadly it is in diminishing supply. Glad to see you continue to cultivate it in your work--despite the times we're in.

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Brian Funke's avatar

Thanks Ann. Hope certainly had many layers. It can empower, it can be a denial until one is ready for the weight of truth, and so many other things…we’ll see where this reflection goes. 🙂

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Nathan Slake's avatar

We must rally in our hope for hope. Otherwise, there is only despair.

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Nathan Slake's avatar

Oops. Typo. *Rally*

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Troy Putney's avatar

So haunting and so beautiful, Brian. And while I try to remain clear-eyed, I hold hope that the remaining American Chestnuts thrive in the future again.

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Brian Funke's avatar

I think you read the clear eyed line like I intended, though the play of clear eyes and hope can cut more than one way.

I first learned about the desolation of the chestnuts when reading Richard Powers The Overstory. Have you read it?

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Paul Wittenberger's avatar

I sensed a breeze from The Overstory in this poem, Brian, perhaps the breath of air that causes a single leaf to dance as it falls. Thank you.

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Brian Funke's avatar

Thanks Paul 🍂

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Troy Putney's avatar

It’s my favorite book of all time and that’s exactly where I learned about their plight as well! I love that connection, and the play on clear eyes.

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Mark Rico's avatar

Ah, the dying of beloved things ... this one strikes a chord in me that was sounding earlier today when I was pruning.

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Brian Funke's avatar

Yes it is sad. I’ll report back in a month or so 🙂

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LeeAnn Pickrell's avatar

This is lovely. You capture the bittersweet in such a tender way in this poem.

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Brian Funke's avatar

Thanks LeeAnn💫

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Nathan Slake's avatar

Lovely, Brian. I feel the change of seasons and the awareness of trees. As I get older, I'm more and more acutely aware of the seasons.

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Brian Funke's avatar

Same. I find I don’t mind them seeming to move faster and faster. When fall ends I know the next fall will feel like it starts next week…what is there to mourn.

Except our immanent demise 😆

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Nathan Slake's avatar

Haha, totally. 😄

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Jonathan Potter's avatar

Very deft, deep, and timely stuff. Well done. I'm reminded of two things. 1) Binsey Poplars by Hopkins and 2) "Old Tree" -- season 4.25 of the TV show Northern Exposure which my wife and I recently watched.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44390/binsey-poplars

https://alaskanriviera.com/2015/02/10/4-25-old-tree/

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Brian Funke's avatar

That poem is beautiful thanks for sharing it. I’ll check out your other rec too!

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