|photo by Knitting Iris on Flickr.com|
rowan side by side with oak.
They have grown together,
roots inextricably twined,
branches so interlaced
the proper season seems to produce
the berried oak,
the acorned rowan,
the shield each other from the wind
and share the rain. At a lost limb
the phantom fingers of the amputee
still feel the itch of the other's
His rising sap inflames
her bright capillaries.
She sheds her crimson benison
around his feet. He feeds her acorns.
Each brings the other to perfection-
perfect spirit of tree
which occupies the space of both,