at world’s end hung the bearded axe of doom
waiting to hew from all trees their ravens
i hugged to myself as if this would protect
teeny in my chest such tremulous clot

but still it was a seedling at my core
but still the stramash was hard to ignore

through arch at twig’s end i quailed to see
yond the chaos and atom of dark design
clung did ravens to my denuded branches
with talons adamantine and whetted

but still there was the theurgy of fate
but still fear uprooted to axe’s dictate

when will for always intersect with my growth rings
or will i weaken at the root and fall to ruin
dare this seedling float on the eddies of wind
or from cradle to grave grow through rain and pain

but still brute divines have smote me
but still to the sun as new tree i devote me

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2020