Zawmb’yee Nuje Writes A Poem, ” To Table An Oak “

To Table An Oak

In the grain of my oak table
I see memories of Spring
when he was a lad
and I was so glad, for
with him no troubles, just
acorns and squirrels, though

he could be of grainy vision, a
philosophy not clear for him, and

he had been of rational mind
the time he would spot the mistletoe

Oh, I said, how charming —
in the old oak, some mistletoe

Yeah, oh, mistletoe’s a parasite
he said quite contrite, and
will sap the life from oaks

I coyly smiled and played him for me:
Save my tree, my hero, my bloak

A fox squirrel showed him up the oak,
so below he could take the mistletoe

But lo and behold like Celtic folk
we kissed among the acorns