Birch Tree

a poem by Nina Marie Campbell, USA - poetry writer, author, poet

Away we go
not to high not to low
traveling on my broom of Beth
At the Sabbath we will meet
where the hills are so steep
as we are promised of life after death

Cutting nine notches of Birch in it’s crown
assures us that this will be so
The branches on top where the dead
will set dock will be keeping an eye down below

The wife of the Usher stands by the North line
and the Thunder God Thor brings in two at a time
That's when we wind down the trunk
to our fate
.At the garden
not a minute too late

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