Cateechee Trail: Oak Trees after Sleet
Robert Lee Kendrick
                                         

To be wrapped in this glass,     
pulsing with moon burst;     
    
to shimmer, as crystals sing   
fugues over skin; to take  
   
jagged cold to the core,    
breathe this white sea;   
   
for this glistening weight  
to sever weak limbs;   
    
to drink this sharp water, 
lengthen, bloom.


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