Elaine M. Adams

(Escondido, California)

The Tree Of Gethsemane

She stands tall, while Doves nestle in
her hair.
Gnarled roots grip a rock so bare.
An angelic wind whistles through her branches.
It's midnight. She shouts out a protective
alarm. Her heart wrenches.
HE kneels to pray.
Hold on. Don't let me go. I'll support you.
Wrap your arms around my Olive wood.

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