The Yew Tree
Each passing limb
That tacks back at the tree;
With a hand in front
That allows your brain time to gather
is God's way of warning.
And in the time just before the yew snaps back
You get a glimpse of life
And death rolling on the floor.
One has a lantern.
One has a rod.
They race to the Agora with a mind
Whipped by the now slung back branch.
We move through the forest together.