Prunus Avium

You are my only witness,
gnarled gaunt tree

with moss buried branches
wooden yet stone-still

without movement
you point that
black finger at me

You whisper and threaten
in accusation (or envy?)

Not tonight tree,
I have no time for 
your jealousy (or guilt)

I have this ability
to perambulate
not those stiff arthritic limbs!

gnarled gaunt tree
you lichen-cloaked

you hypocrite  
do not gawk at me,
I still have my hatchet!

you alone have seen
these stained hands' capability.

Bees will not pollinate
your fragrant white flowers

Birds will not eat
your small sweet cherries

I stand, I swing,
I sweat & scream

Your prehistoric roots
will not writhe

to reveal
my secret.

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