The Great Oak Tree

Who might we see
Heaving ourselves over the
Mountain top I
Tumble from its peak,
Howling.
A rumble in the
Throat a tremble in
The bones
Bleached white black
As night.

Who might we see the
Lick-split snap fury
All legs and pounding
Feet. Wild hair blown
Like the branches of the tree
The Great Oak Tree we
Live where wild eyes
See black limbs move
Like jagged edges, clawing
At the double cream of
A midnight moon.

So you and I go howling,
Words crack back arched the
Break in the tree
Wind is the howl
The epigraph
Here lies The Great Oak Tree
And so we lie too.