Trees

by on February 11, 2019 :: 0 comments

The
tree
Reaches down into
Itself.  Where demons mingle.
Knotted roots signal battle.
The blackened soil, a hollow
For unseen wars. Muted screams stored into
Silence.  The roots coil back,
Like harrowed victims chased home. Once inside
The dark terror subsides and they can rest. Tomorrow, as leaves,
They sing in the sun, their flapping kisses the pearly air.
Where angels cushion
The light
Of
Day.

editors note:

Where birds of feather flock, not scatter; fight fears, threats shatter. – mh clay

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