Wooden Woman

I offer these bones of oak
the children of the tree
To the wooden woman
in the hearth and home

I strike a match, the sulphur
fills the air, in trails and wisps,
a crackle.
I hold the flame to candle

I spread a golden goblet of sand
on a bronze plate of symbols
Then place the candle there

I take a branch of oak
fallen in the black street outside
and write the shape of a leaf
an epigraph in sand

I place an acorn there
Does the wooden woman smile?
Does she know?
Has she seen me through
the veil of Dew.

Let the candle burn through night:
I hold my palms in praise
folded over the blade of the rib
I bow my head to Her
Dear candle warm my winter
I’ll carry this acorn with me
when I require strength.

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