Dead Hedge Theory

A dead hedge is a traditional way to turn fallen branches, pruned limbs, and leftover wood into a useful natural habitat/fence. Instead of throwing yard debris away, you can stack it into a rustic barrier that marks off an area, tidies the landscape, and gives wildlife a safe place to hide, but it is much more. Hope the poem is its own dead hedge.

Dead Hedge Theory

After the storm

the woods empties its pockets,

branches everywhere.

Cedar,

Blackberry, honeysuckle,

grape vines.

Most of us see a mess.

Others see building materials.

as they stake out

Some imagined space

on the ground.

Start stacking.

Start weaving.

Branch on branch.

Thorn on twig.

Storm debris becoming architecture.

Some call it a dead hedge.

Funny that.

Nothing about it is dead.

Wrens move in first.

Mice start digging tunnels

and lining nests.

Wind hits the hedge

and forgets what it came to do,

a neighborhood built from detritus,

Built from broken.

Here’s the part I’m still learning:

most of us wait for the perfect idea,

Better lumber,

perfect health,

Sweet perfect day,

Caloo callay,

but the woods keeps suggesting

another way.

Use what’s already fallen.

Ideas are branches,

written pages are branches

old conversations are branches

even mistakes -

especially mistakes --

are branches.

Stack them.

let gravity help.

paranoia says the world is a trap,

but the woods says, “Storms are supply chains.”

The universe

keeps dropping materials

right at our feet.

And the entry trick,

the only trick,

is to start building

before you feel ready.

one branch.

then another.

and one day you look up

And you realize

That you are

Hedging your life

With

Stray ideas and

Conversations and

Leftover scraps of the noted.

If pronoia is the opposite of paranoia

Then debris

Is another name for beginning.