Thursday, February 14, 2013

The Trees Are Dead

A double-trunk tree stood
two grown into one
two in an infinitesimal
dance of mirth, their join
a slowly twisting caress

An arc of light
a blade in flight
wooden strokes
woodman strains

The trees are dead
against the snow
black cuts on white
winged creatures
as mysterious and ominous
as snow angels fey children carve

The trees are dead...
cold so still it binds
the day an arrow to the chest
snow so sere it blinds
the darkest night hangs nigh

A wooden echo escapes
something fell
as strange as spring...
the double-trunk tree
iron sunk to the core