"Covenant"

The senior oak tree

sloughs its scarred bark,

a jigsaw mosaic

unsutured by God or man,

revealing fissured rivulets –

a map of sinews

steering us

heavenward.

What heavy hand slighted the intarsist?

Was there an assault

induced by

man –

a careless

swing of the axe;

or

beast –

a buck in rut,

brainsick from his lusty exertions?

Perhaps the wound was self-inflicted –

an aged

breastplate

flayed

to accommodate growth,

another

ring

-around

-the

-rosey.

Castings of mulch

carpet the forest floor,

a reminder of hoary promises -

a crown of cork

to bear unafraid,

freshening

nascent layers.


-- by Lisa Joele Tuttle

December 10, 2009