A Jagged Hug - Maggie McShane
One of the Top 24 submissions in our 2022 Urban Tree Festival writing competition.
A Jagged Hug
We didn’t hug trees.
We climbed them after errant younger pupils,
Trying to escape chiding
By hiding in a jagged hug of branches.
We didn’t revere trees,
We chopped them for fuel amidst holiday gales,
Lugging awkward logs
Into bog-soot blackened cradles.
We didn’t venerate trees.
We gifted them handholds and scuff marks,
Catchings of cloth and skin
From chin scrapes and joy-filled games.
We didn’t worship trees.
We sheltered under their leaves,
Watching a rain-soaked match
Before batch drying our tired team.
We didn’t rag-tie trees.
We whispered our secrets instead,
Telling our gossip and pouring tales
Onto rails of foot-entangling roots.
We didn’t honour trees.
We pulled them into our daily skirmishes,
Roping them with our lives, ribbons and light
Under bright city banners, we planted them in reality.
We didn’t award trees.
We dragged them through our every-days,
Scraping their splinters, breathing their calm
Beyond balm, until our bark-backed souls could rest.
Maggie McShane
Maggie McShane is an author and poet based in Scotland. She has published fiction, non-fiction, journalism and poetry.
