A Treelike Shape

The elderly Blue Oak

near my front door

stands intact

with bark that hugs her girth


coursing through her veins

molding the air around her

into a temple for her soul.

Were she to crumble and collapse

in a moment,

atmosphere in the shape of a Blue Oak

would fill the vacated space,

matter would slide through

where phloem once was,

substance would morn the loss

of tracheids and vessels,

content to cherish the heartbeat

of this still lasting goddess.

First published by Academy of the Heart and Mind January 2019