An Elm in Spring

by TS S. Fulk

While winter’s slumber chilled

throughout my sapwood veins

I dreamed of ages past

of children under shade

and women in their prime

orchestrating their lives

Yet through the veil of nostalgia

crept a thundering yearning gaze

that threatened to split me in twain

like Mjölnir striking a giant

The source a poor child’s fantasy

fueled by anxiety and angst

and a strong desire to be seen

to emerge from its pupal husk

The sun’s rays now lengthen 

Look child — verdant buds awaken