A man marries a tree

In the dead of the frigid wind

nothing blows not even the cold leaves

of the sunken tree who had a spirit

feminine in the stark night

nothing could be seen

but his voice who had married the tree

beneath it was the treasure of life’ savings

where he had invested his fine fortune

to love the spirit who arose with the sun

and set on spotting the new moon

and empty hand stretched from the bark

they say the moon once had crimson light

when the tree was a full grown woman

and now nothing grows

not even the cold of December rain

and the man marries the tree


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