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yew
And the message of the yew tree is blackness
‒
blackness and silence.
Sylvia Plath
shade and a conversation of crows and blackbirds
funeral clothes and the hush of a sleeping baby
mouldering bones slow exhalation of atomised souls
shadows of time long generations past in murmurs
furrowing bark shudder of an arrow
dusk and the passing of badgers
frozen nights creaking with ice
dark winter days to hold onto life
deep green and quiet
so many trees
so many messages