The Tapper
It took them three years
to drain the maple tree
to death.
Fifty holes drilled
in rings upon rings
to count a year of dying;
fifty taps driven,
fifty buckets hung
mocking armor,
into which the sweet water
relentlessly dripped.
Through cold nights and warm days,
a steady patter;
each bucket filled,
removed, replaced
and filled again
and again
until there was no more;
and yet the tree
survived
to turn to gold
and silver
and fill with sweet running
life again
which was again drained
and yet once more;
it took three years, but
taking always
wins in the end
even by drops.
— Liz Huck
Liz Huck lives in Springfield and works at the Illinois Department of Human
Services. She is the author of a suspense novel, The Lanyard, published
by Writer’s Showcase. She has recently published a chapbook of her poems entitled,
Many Glories Together.
People’s Poetry accepts poems on any subject, but ones that deal with issues
of local interest are encouraged. Send yours to Books and Poetry Editor Corrine
Frisch c/o Illinois Times, P.O. Box 5256, Springfield, IL 62705, or to cfrisch@illinoistimes.com with “People’s Poetry” in the subject line.
This article appears in Aug 5-11, 2004.
