Live Oak

Live Oak

Sultry sway in the summer breeze
Just fine.
Swags of moss,
Hanging tendrils adorn.
Beauty shines as
Sun caresses
Leaves a-shimmer
With a lick of morning dew.

She stands
Guardian of the river
She waves at passersby
And holds out hands—
Safe harbor
for bird ornaments
Perched to watch
from her view
Ages of water
Gone by.

Benevolent gaze
In still summer
Turns angry as agitated winds
Pull her locks
Straining to dislodge
That live oak grips in
rooted fists
of the
That she clasps to her bosom.

Storm moves on
Giving her one last shake
On her backside.
Freshly cleaned limbs
Dance in the residual breeze
An inside joke with the river
Ages of water
Going by.

Joy Eastridge


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