River Red Gum

You see all of it, 

through your journey. 

The bush fires.  

The flood.  

Through all those years,  

branches snapping. 

You have tattooed scribbles of time.  

All over you.   

Bugs and insects.     

Your branch twisting. 

Up, down, loops.   

Different shapes.  

For 100,00 years. 

You’re the mother tree to all  

people.