The elusive

let the clouds burst and drench the fallen wood
one last time before i dig my fingers deep.
grub and mite take flight as angered digits
snake through the years of ringed fiber
searching for the elusive.
It is the betrayal of leaves in spring; it is the
absence of nutrients that have flushed out the good.
A silent scream fills the soul of the tree and shakes its outer limbs. Deep to my shoulder, splinters under my nails, the frantic grasps continue for years until I become fodder for the earth just as the tree, forever feeding the elusive.

penn