ever crying “O”

i walked the dog in winter
with senses open full
and heard a maddened moaning
in a symphony of wind
she called to me
this mourning tree
her naked arms outstretched
she drew me close
and whispered
a secret i now forget
but i see her
in my half-life dreams
a halo, red and gold,
children playing at her feet
laughing, running, growing old
the secret, the secret,
it haunts me
it had to do with life
or some other grand illusion
frozen now in time
why does she weep
my mourning tree
ever crying “O”
for children grown
or mothers gone
or a small blue planet’s
death?

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