child-feet walk in shadows
words stitching red marks down backs and
wondering when the tree
will fall, wonder when impaling twigs will catch them
off-stride. little hands dig
little seeds into the earth, spread
like acorns in harvest.
smoke-soap bubbles erupt from red-marked fingers
on castle walls, exploding like bombshells
against tree-bark. still
the tree grows and blooms, young limbs
stretched in sync, as if reaching for something.
but the clouds pull away
in sneering allure, and over night skies streak axes
at the tree, vicious and seductive. like
children they pull away, dance with little fingers
through starlight. bark painted red-yellow
falls, hearing
snapped tree limbs call from the top
to land on the acorns, but roots twist the other way.
