Enactments of some epic battlement
Lives on, within my oak

Where a warrior’s flesh
Is laid to rest . . . the roots embodied his presence.

Its bark, built the stage. . .
With its bending branches curled up in the last pose he gave!

The crevices, his reverences
. . . to those he once killed

See the laterality in the trees!

I can see him with his shaft
Kneeling . . . He seems to gasp!

. . . or is he stilled, in taking?
Taking . . . from the last breath he took?

Now, my eye saw the hook!

A woman and child lookout, as if hovering in fear
They knew their enemy was near! (You know my fire pit has tears!)

I think maybe it’s he . . . sweating it out, I see!
Him, knowing in death, his sins . . .

Proffer from the coffers of your Oaks!
Your excessive nests. . . leaves, wither and die

Undue time IS a bit much . . . No? And unrestrained!
His Reign will never wash it away!

Every day I see this paladin, and all that has seeded since . . .
Look on your lands and see this!

The real victory lies in the dirt you feed off of . . .
Rooted in what? Love?

Copyright 2010

Kimmy Van Kooten