CAMELOT FANTASIES

the green-leaved black willow
that is slowly drinking
the pond's western edge
meadow is filling
up with stilt spiders,
their web orbs
deathtraps ... the setting
haunting under
moonlight silhouette.

the tree doesn't speak,
her feet underwater,
fearsome unseen yardage
of gnarled
black toenails ...
she is a queen

her leaves dressed
with web
and wings from crane flies,
who are
mating in flight
in her overwater sphere
and dancing at the edges
of the spiders' silky netting.

the willow
will soon rid herself,
time on a wheel,
of spiders and flies,
their battleground forfeited
in a moment of nature's demise,
as one by one in the pond
the fallen dead
will follow
feeding the fish below who love
that black willow.