Leaves and Walnuts

Christopher Raley

 

I let her lie too long: leaves and walnuts,
branches on top and their wilts dying down
leaving dead wood a church of arches.

 

And the oak tree grew untended, drooping
over her decay, blocking out the light
hallowing this temple for black widows.

 

Misty webs’ dew was their only plunder of morning.
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