Tree Grief
I pass a fallen
oak on the path.
Into its hollow core I fit
my stripped heart, slip in,
lying on my side, I peer out
a knot hole, tannin tips
my eyelashes, myopic
tangled branches snag
what's left of my coat-
lining, chewed, spit out
by careless larval forms.
In my mouth, the worm-
wood taints my lips.
Theresa A. Cancro writes poetry and short fiction. Her work has been published in many online and print journals, including The Artistic Muse, Kumquat Poetry, Birds by My Window, The Rainbow Journal, Lost Paper, A Handful of Stones, Cattails, Chrysanthemum, Shamrock Haiku Journal, and Presence, among others.
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