Poetry: The Treedassie

Poetry: The Treedassie

Words: Nataša Cordeaux

The night contained the
motorised buzzing of crickets;
the flutter of sound shaping
itself, enfolding and
immersing.
The night immersed, or rather,
drowned each ear drum.

The pounding of black and white
spotted wings, weaving through
the vines, replayed like a silent film –
each fitting the audio of their life
to one exacted moment.

In total darkness, guided by religion
They could not hear,
the Treedassie cried its symphony.
A pitch so black.
A black that suspended the sun.
We stood above the tree tops,
meters of life sprung beneath us…
and then she rose and rised.

Treedassie, she outcried the jungle.

Screeching, climaxing,
An uninterrupted cry
Crescendo’d pain
A vulnerability hidden
Outshouted
Prey posing as Predator
Slowly descending, finally
reaching a silence.

The treedassie is a coward.
She will remain faceless.
Hunger draws her down
but danger keeps her wrapped
in vines and ash-brown branches
in the attic of the jungle.

Short Story: The Descent

Short Story: The Descent

Short Story: Bible for Kids - The Garden of Eden and the Serpent

Short Story: Bible for Kids - The Garden of Eden and the Serpent