The stump sobs for its pinecone babies unborn,
\nSeeds in their prisons a blasphemous broken promise.
\nEach ring on the tabled trunk now a year of defeat,
\nSpring frozen by death and circumstance.
\nBeneath the sawdust of nature’s hopes
\nThe sap congeals, anger in amber.
\nThe wound blots out proud heights and soaring sky
\nLeaving only choking tumor of pine.
\nTo remove the stump? \u2014 an ox, countless winters,
\nOr the lightning strike. A mountain cannot
\nKnow when the petrified heart will empty.
\nThe nearby seedlings shudder;
\nThe bitterest roots linger longest.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The stump sobs for its pinecone babies unborn, Seeds in their prisons a blasphemous broken promise. Each ring on the tabled trunk now a year of defeat, Spring frozen by death and circumstance. Beneath the sawdust of nature’s hopes The sap congeals, anger in amber. The wound blots out proud heights and soaring sky Leaving … <\/p>\n