a major branch is missing
yes it's true
and in its place there rots
the stumped remains
grayish bark has formed
a bold round knot
which slowly seals the rift
of ancient loss
i can't recall now what
disfigured me
a violent flash of light
a sudden gust
or maybe it was some
unusual frost
that weighed the limb with weight
too great to hold
perhaps it was the scream
of stainless teeth
that bit down through the wood
so long ago
it doesn't matter now
the rest lives on
a weave of branches sweep the
phasing heights
each spring new leaves play out
against the wind
each autumn they drift down
to join the soil
each summer my full crown
gleams in the sun
each winter my black shadow
dreams at rest
and each year sees me stronger
than the last
growing ever skyward
from the earth
i grow—the knot is but
a memory
an old decaying echo
from before
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