In Memoriam of Quercus Virginiana

Last week two, centuries-old live oak trees (Quercus Virginiana) collapsed in the park across the street from my house. No humans were injured, but the loss of these magnificent oaks is felt by many. The physical void they left is dwarfed by the emptiness in our hearts.

Over the past few days, after the oaks fell, were dismembered, and hauled off, I noticed people visiting the now bare sight. They stand quietly or circle the two massive stumps, talking softly among themselves. I saw one woman kneel before the larger stump, brush sawdust from the crosscut, and place her palms on the still-damp wood, holding them there for several seconds. She then moved onto the other oak, repeating the process.

My poem is for these oaks.

QUERCUS VIRGINIANA
In Memoriam

They come to show respect.
On foot, by bike, or in cars,
Solitary or with others,
Young and old alike.
They come to show respect.

They come to mourn.
The loss of beauty and strength,
A grandeur that seemed eternal.
Now gone.
They come to mourn.

They come to remember.
Springtime picnics,
The song of saxophone,
A flock of white ibises,
Wedding vows and
Sunset kisses.
They come to remember.

They come to give thanks.
For cooling shade,
A place to dream,
A limb to swing on,
Oxygen to breathe,
Shelter and food for
Birds, insects, ‘possums
And squirrels.
They come to give thanks.

Kathleen Schrenk
September 12, 2023