when nearly everyone shared a knowledge of what the Bible said and an ignorance of what it meant.
Published by Dave Bonta
I live in an Appalachian hollow in the Juniata watershed of central Pennsylvania, and spend a great deal of time walking in the woods. My books of poetry include FAILED STATE: HAIBUN, ICE MOUNTAIN: AN ELEGY, BREAKDOWN: BANJO POEMS, and ODES TO TOOLS.
View all posts by Dave Bonta
Tree looks like it took in a dying refugee, and simply kept on growing.
It’s a bizarre thing. The old snag isn’t even attached to the ground any more, it’s just resting there, but I’m guessing its roots hadn’t rotted away yet when the living tree began to grow around it, because this is right on top of a very windy ridge.