Wednesday, August 01, 2007

Cold Tree

A mine disaster,
a naked tree,
the stark surreal jag, covered
with moss and saprophytes
recycling...

It crawls through me
as sundown's ice dances over
the locked limbs of these
restless dreaming trees,
and either sings,
or dies.

The simurgh's egg cracks,
the scary black one this time,
menacing empty.

Through the shell
the mountain opens--
a black narcissus
bigger than the sky.