Spoiler! :
he seemed perfect from a distance -
like the memory of a moment only half imagined -
lording over a forest
of dying black walnuts and rotting sycamores.
his trunk is a skyscraper,
so tall that you could climb to the very top
and pluck stars from the sky
to save for a darker time when you truly need a wish.
but up close, the beauty is lost
for the nearer you are, the more visible the flaws become
until all you can see
are the knots in the wood and the bark falling away
and a slender, scraggly scar running
down the length of the deciduous king as a reminder
of the power within
the burst of lighting that would mark him to death.
for somewhere in the distance
chainsaws roar to life accompanied by the reek of gasoline
and they will drop every tree in sight
from the walnuts and the sycamores to the lonely, dying oak.
like the memory of a moment only half imagined -
lording over a forest
of dying black walnuts and rotting sycamores.
his trunk is a skyscraper,
so tall that you could climb to the very top
and pluck stars from the sky
to save for a darker time when you truly need a wish.
but up close, the beauty is lost
for the nearer you are, the more visible the flaws become
until all you can see
are the knots in the wood and the bark falling away
and a slender, scraggly scar running
down the length of the deciduous king as a reminder
of the power within
the burst of lighting that would mark him to death.
for somewhere in the distance
chainsaws roar to life accompanied by the reek of gasoline
and they will drop every tree in sight
from the walnuts and the sycamores to the lonely, dying oak.
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