A gnarled and twisted oak
grows from the edge
of a sheer cliff
on the river's other shore.
The massive trunk is swollen
and lumpy with burls
like pregnant bellies
or malignant tumors.
A moss blanketed monstrosity
clinging against gravity
while its defiant roots
split the stony ground.
Its home crumbles
beneath its very feet,
tumbling into the river
one granite splinter
at a time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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