The Crone


More than
A century ago
As a youngster
She watched
The horse-drawn carriages
Struggle up the hillside
Over the travel-worn path
And dreamt
Of the day
When she could 
Stretch out her arms
And give shade to
The weary people
And tired horses

She grew 
Beside that path
Witnessing 
The world
From her home
At the edge of the woods
Growing
Taller
Her arms reaching
Ever broader
She gave home
 To many
Woodpeckers
Cardinals
Catbirds
And so much more
Insects
Have feasted upon her
Animals 
Have found rest
Safe within
Her branches

Now 
She stands
Old and broken
Beside the path
Now a dirt road

She resides in her home
Exposed
And vulnerable
A shadow of her 
Former self
And yet,
She continues
To give
Home for woodland
Creatures
Food for the
Earth
And loving embrace
As she gathers 
Dying leaves
Onto her lap
Holding them
Gently
As they pass to 
Earth
A dying gift
From the once
Mighty Oak.