The Four Sisters twine limbs

against the elemental sky

and weave roots

to part Earth

with slow and steady certainty.

They hold the memory of years,

of an age,

in their woody flesh,

girdled within their torsos

in concentric rings.

They do not complain,

nor pass judgment,

nor beg favor

as I pass between their knees,

beneath their shadow lattice.

Yet always,

they return my greeting in

their rustling,

multi-leafed chorus.

–C.Birde