Kit Kelen - #210 - bare limbs

210

bare limbs

the tree's death

is a living thing

mistletoed to air's edge

such shapes as no one ever thought

an ant's traverse

a beetle's burrow

and where vine takes up the tune

there's tendril tops the stave

as if some last gesticulation

were whittled down to twig

this little heart

the day's pledged to

claw after claw come to world's end

makes wings off in the blue