The Chair
By Erin R
Published 19 June 2023
For centuries upon centuries, the ancient Tuart Tree stood.
Her shoulders refuge to many Carnaby’s Cockatoo.
From the base onwards, roots will thrive
Burrowing down for nutrients to survive.
A woodcutter comes with a stone-sharpened blade
And that night, the earth fell silent.
With one mighty ‘CHOP’ the Tuart Tree fell
Upon the earth, her limbs chopped up to sell.
Orange sticky tears fell from her face
As her skin was torn, exposing her heart
Sent to be carved and formed into a wooden chair
Confined in a room, she’s now in despair.
Next to the fire, her chair slowly rocked
A little girl is now a friend, who is dressed in a frock
Cuddling close with a wooden teddy bear
The Tuart Tree is now a rocking chair.
Slowly over time, she was disheartened
Lost in a corner pushed away and forgotten
Cobwebs covered her oak-smooth surface
And she ended up having no other purpose.