The Tree That Fell
Roots remembered, branches reaching.
Background: A very heavy rain fell in the town my family lives and thunder struck my mum's precious lemon/bergamot tree.
The rain was heavy, the ground too soft,
and the old tree bowed until it broke.
Its fall was not thunder, not omen,
but a sigh, as if it remembered
my father’s leaving.
I saw my mother’s sorrow in the silence,
as though another piece of him
had been taken.
I told her the breaking was not curse
but release,
a door shut to frustrate the shadows
that once gathered near.
Still, its roots run deep in my mind,
holding the scent of sunlit fruit,
lemons bright against green.
Its branches were never tall,
but they reached far enough
to season our days with light.
Even in falling, it teaches
how small things endure,
how memory, like citrus,
keeps its sharp sweetness.
About the Creator
Cathy (Christine Acheini) Ben-Ameh.
https://linktr.ee/cathybenameh
Passionate blogger sharing insights on lifestyle, music and personal growth.
⭐Shortlisted on The Creative Future Writers Awards 2025.
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Comments (1)
I love how you memorialize the tree in this way. My mother had two trees in her backyard, each struck by lightning a few years apart. I miss lying in the hammock that she always had between them but now there's much more room for my young niece to play, so it's not all bad. Great poem. :)