by Rhonda Erickson

Created on: October 10, 2008

"The Troll Tree"

With branches looming tall, long and proud, stretching over thirty feet high.

Like slender and delicate fingers reaching toward the sunny skies.

In Spring, hundreds of bright green leaves cling and wave gently with the wind.

Changing to spectacular shades of yellow and orange as the season ends.

Reluctant to let go, each leaf is loosened, and floats away without a care.

Abandoned, now the tree stands alone, stripped of beauty, naked and bare.

No plumage to disguise or keep away prying eyes from what lies below.

Once a solid and round trunk, now riddled with disease, misshapen and hollow.

Tender bark long ago erupting to a tangled mass of deformed protrusions.

Tearing mercilessly at the budding wood, creating a dark cavern of allusions.

Knotty and gnarled, indented dead, with a deep cave echoing beneath the living.

A lair, mysterious and beckoning of trolls and other magical mythical things.

From afar, curious lookers may catch a glimpse of occasional movement inside.

Distorted scary creatures, peering from the darkness, luminous and wide eyed.

Closer watch reveals only an abandoned hull, a foreboding, lonely place.

Walking away brings an eery chill, as muffled sounds drift from the empty space.

Glancing back, the setting sun glares on the horizon, playing tricks on clear sight.

New leaves bring cover to the shadowy figures as the day relinquishes into night.

The troll tree is ever protective of it's inhabitants and reluctant to give them away.

Life stirs again in the darkness, shielded, seen only by the full moon as they play.

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