The tree has crumbled in my hands,
The sap has blackened and flaked on my arms,
The tree has hallowed my breast -
Caverned,
The branches have been amputated.
Tree you were,
Mossed you are,
You are a snag with water above you.
An adult - so buried - you are,
And all this is folly to the worms.
Sunday, August 02, 2009
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