Projects
Oak in August
Oak, ponderously lobed and twisted,
Hoists her weight between a sky
Parched and cloudless,
And long grass petrified in bright shards.
No neighbors limbs graze her branches,
Shading neither grove nor knoll,
But bleached and open pasture,
Deer-crossed, hoof-pocked.
A thousand arms lifting in supplication
Her bitter corns have
Drawn no clustered seedlings
To white oak grown huge in centuries' resignation.
The weight and heat of uncompanioned summer
Are only blades of grass tickling the thick bark,
But swords enough to pierce my naked feet.
Julie Hopp
Flournoy Valley
October 1985
for Stefi