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Haustorial
The sound of porcupine teeth
in the oak’s crown,
as lethal as mistletoe.
Ahead of me on the path,
the tracks of three deer
braiding and unbraiding.
I reach inside my coat
and find a twig. It’s happening
sooner than I thought.
Poems on the topic: mistletoe
Poems on the topic “mistletoe” on Poets.by.
Abandoned Plum-Orchard
Lichen, mistletoe, aloft
In the dying croft,
Leaf the winter trees.
An Oak
Hoar mistletoe
Hangs in clumps
To the twisted boughs
Of this lonely tree.
Beneath its roots I often thought treasure was buried:
For the roots had enclosed a circle.
But when I dug beneath them,
I could only find great black ants
That attacked my hands.
When at night I have the nightmare,
I always see the eyes of ants
Swarming from a mouldering box of gold.
Under the Mistletoe
Did not know she’d take it so,
Or else I’d never dared;
Although the bliss was worth the blow,
I did not know she’d take it so.
She stood beneath the mistletoe
So long I thought she cared;
I did not know she’d take it so,
Or else I’d never dared.
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