05 April 2011


Doddered 4/5

The trunk is the size of a car – arms won’t reach
It is knobbed and made of stone – there are
faces stretching up this oak’s sides

You’d think it would stand tall and wide – but
it stops 30 feet above in a strange broken tuft
The side branches on crutches

Everywhere a hush – the animals making berth
around this matron – it tilts in the wind and
drops leaves on our heads

A ship wondering a vast ocean without a compass
relying on however many years it has
as a guide

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