Giant
The redwood hulks above the other trees
Just here in Bracknell, right across the road
From undistinguished houses. In a breeze
The meaningless trunk looms as if to goad
Some god that I am unacquainted with.
It used to be that I remembered to
Look up towards it as if it were a myth
That gave me blessings—made me think of you.
But you have now been dead so long that I
Forget to turn to it for comfort. Still
There, nevertheless, it stands against the sky
And twilight, promising never to thrill.
..I almost never think to look to where
….It gave hope. The Gobi of sand is there.