Winter Solstice

The crimson fire of autumn leaves
Have burnt the vernal wax of summer wings
Leaving only spiny-finger withered Oak
To feed in winter cold - the mistletoe

And on this Druid moonlit night
When all of nature seems - without life
A priestess climbs the spindly old Oak
With golden sickle she cloves - the mistletoe

Upon the hearth a bough is hung
Rites of Oak-leaves and songs are sung
The winter solstice death and rebirth
A cawing Black Crow - the mistletoe

1998 Jim Cain

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