It surprised him
a tree trunk grey
the size around
of a 55 gallon drum
cut-off waist high
its bark had long-since
rotted away or
was eaten by famished insects and left
with wormy striations running
vertically its height and about its girdle
sharply etched
nearly half-inch increments
walking up on it
he peered down inside it
it was rendered
a calyx a bowl with a tall rasp like a fragile
starched collar
that crumbled
only in a couple three places
not
wide or deep rents
it was ossified
there were no discernable
spiderwebs or life in its bowl
and taking it in
it
appeared a cauldron
waiting
only rainwater meat and vegetables to make a greasy feast
the black earth
around it looked burnt
Where where were the
witches and hags the dismembered
children the throngs of bedeviled
sycophants their succubus and incubus
or would they
erupt out the earth when the forest grew dark
he began to back
out of the clearing surrounding it very slowly
and as he went he
realised it comported very nearly to the size of its vanquished crown
nothing grew
inside this clearing
the young
saplings at its edge stood like flays of whips
elastic
groping like
blind tentacles
he did not
turn his back on it until
he could no longer see it for the rise of earth the weeds and trees between
them
and now beyond it
he felt oddly
as if he escaped some thing
overhead as dusk descended the shadows of black fowls roosted among
snapping sounds
began flailing
he turned and ran madly not
hazarding a wild glance over his shoulder
and broke sweat in the cold ethereal air
then a sudden breeze a sour misty vapour reeked past him
as
if the corrupt tree behind him had inhaled
had sucked it
and somewhere beyond him
a husky
owl cried
it was an elderly owl
and
wise
who did not enter into the woods from where he emerged
he wondered awed
had he stayed
would he have become
Lost Unfortunate
1809,
Saturday, 2 7. 11
