one muddy grey day last November

There's a gnarled black oak
living just outside the forest
An abandoned seed
dropped by chance by a rambling crow
a stranger happening by
Forever looking up at the sky
Forever looking down at the river
Unable to share the whispers of the woods
when it scratched its way out of the ground
one muddy grey day last November
The dawn came home late last night
The sun was too hungover to get out of bed
Looking at the back window
at the moon sitting up in the trees
where the black midnight mirror
dances with chimney smoke
and looks up the stars
locked the door to my heart real good
It's worse somehow than all those other times
We got high off homemade wine
made out of funeral arrangements and tears
Every time the trains get to rumblin' past drunkenly
they wail like broken-hearted bluesmen
sitting on top of the bridge
It's been pushing up daffodils
every single year in March
behind the rotting back porch
on the other side of a long dead farm
Whenever the grass falls over
we find old bones in the field
arrow heads, rusty broken promises