high above the town
a tree rests on a black stone of sap
like an exclamation mark
for a life sentence
or the old hearth and chimney
that i found yesterday
standing alone
deep in the state forest
we are confronted by the absent
the deciduous undead
drained of sap
immune to the provocations of sunlight
their pantomimes of desire
reduced to mere architecture
while stones dance
through freeze and thaw
all winter long now
rocking in their cradles of leaves
the day after the solstice
the sun reappears
in the dark ice-free end
of a woodland pool
for a long moment just after noon
amid the clamor of bells
