Saint Paul, 24 December 2004
By birthright we clobber a subterranean stump
A dumbfounded thud bewildering the here we know
Roundhouse hacks a steel splitting maul at minus five
Exploding wood into cleaves of chocolate bear claws
That the kernel of fleshy fruit resembles our brain
Is not unexpected but design-less and unintentional
The rangy planks of walnut give us tables to convene
Aromatic leaves shade each generation’s picnic
Flowers staminate and pistillate in separate catkins
Bark is as deeply furrowed as mortals reconciling infinity
Splinters and wormholes convey disintegrated matter
But in season’s time command green shoots into light